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THE ROMANCES

OP

ALEXANDRE DUMAS.

NEW SERIES

ASCANIO.

VOL. I.

Romances of &lexantire Dumas,

ROMANCES OF THE REIQN OF HENRY II.

I. THE Two DIANAS 3 vols.

II. THB PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY a vols.

THE VALOIS ROMANCES.

I. MARGUERITE DE VALOIS a vols.

II. LA DAME DE MONSOREAU a vols.

III. THE FORTY-FIVE a vols.

THE D'ARTAQNAN ROMANCES.

I. THB THREE MUSKETEERS a vols.

II. TWENTY YEARS AFTER a vols.

III. THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE ; or, Ten Years

Later 6 vols.

THE REGENCY ROMANCES.

I. LE CHEVALIER D'HARMENTAL i vol.

II. THE REGENT'S DAUGHTER i voL

A ROMANCE OF THE REIQN OF LOUIS XV.

OLYMPE DE CLEVES a vols.

THE MARIE ANTOINETTE ROMANCES.

I. MEMOIRS OF A PHYSICIAN 3 vols.

II. THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE a vols.

III. ANGE PITOU a vols.

IV. LA COMTESSE L>E CHARNY 4 vols.

V. LE CHEVALIER DE MAISON-ROUGE i voL

THE NAPOLEON ROMANCES.

THE COMPANIONS OF JEHU a vols.

THE WHITES AND THE BLUES a vols.

THE BLACK TULIP ... i voL

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO 4 vols.

THE SHE-WOLVES OF MACHECOUL\ .

THE CORSICAN BROTHERS / •

NEW SERIES.

ASCANIO : A Romance of Francis 1. and Benvenuto

Cellini a vols.

THE WAR OF WOMEN : A Romance of the Fronde . . a vols.
BLACK : The Story of a Dog z vol.

TALES OF THE CAUCASUS — THE BALL OF SNOW.
AND SULTANETTA i vol.

£tje Romances of SlleiranOre &mma0

NEW SERIES.

A S C A N I O.

BY

ALEXANDRE DUMAS.

49750

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.

1896.

Copyright, 1895,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.

UNIVERSITY PRESS:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

" NEVER perhaps," says Miss Pardoe (in the Pref
ace to the " Court and Reign of Francis I."), " did
the reign of any European sovereign present so
many and such varying phases. A contest for
empire, a captive monarch, a female regency, and
a religious war ; the poisoned bowl and the burn
ing pile alike doing their work of death amid
scenes of uncalculating splendor and unbridled dis
sipation ; the atrocities of bigotry and intolerance,
blent with the most unblushing licentiousness and
the most undisguised profligacy ; — such are the
materials offered to the student by the times of
Francis I."

The period thus characterized is that in which
the scene of the present romance is laid, and al
though the plot is mainly concerned with the for
tunes of others than subjects of the Roi Chevalier,
we are treated to a succession of vivid pictures of
life and manners at the French court and in the
French capital.

vi INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

The author depicts the king rather as he ap
peared to the world before what has been called
the " legend of the Roi Chevalier," — that is to say,
the long prevailing idea that Francis I. was the
most chivalrous monarch who ever sat upon a
European throne, — had been modified by the inde
pendent researches of those who have not feared
to go behind the writings of the old and well
tutored chroniclers whose works have formed the
basis of most modern histories, — chroniclers
who seem to have been guided by Cardinal Riche
lieu's famous remark to an aspiring historian,
apropos of certain animadversions upon the char
acter of Louis XL, that " it is treason to discuss
the actions of a king who has been dead only two
centuries."

The result of these researches is thus summed
up by Miss Pardoe in the same Preface : —

" The glorious day of Marignano saw the rising,
and that of Pavia the setting, of his fame as a
soldier ; so true it is that the prowess of the man
was shamed by that of the boy. The eai-ly and
unregretted death of one of his neglected queens,
and the heart-broken endurance of the other, con
trasted with the unbounded influence of his first
favorite and the insolent arrogance of his second,
will sufficiently demonstrate his character as a
husband. His open and illegal oppression of an

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. vii

overtaxed and suffering people to satisfy the crav
ings of an extortionate and licentious court, will
suffice to disclose his value as a monarch ; while
the reckless indifference with which he falsified his
political pledges, abandoned his allies in their ex
tremity in order to further his own interests, and
sacrificed the welfare of his kingdom and the
safety of his armies to his own puerile vanity, will
complete a picture by no means calculated to elicit
one regret that his reign was not prolonged."

Victor Hugo dared to puncture the " legend,"
when, in the play of " Le Roi s'Amuse," he repre
sented the " knightly king " as being enticed to a
low water-side hovel by the charms of a girl of the
street; but even the government of the Citizen
King, Louis-Philippe, could not brook such an
attack upon the " divinity that doth hedge a king,"
and, after the first performance in 1832, the strong
hand of the censorship was laid upon the play, and
fifty years elapsed before it again saw the light
upon the stage.

The first titular favorite of King Francois, the
Comtesse de Chateaubriand, whose character was
in every respect diametrically opposed to that of
her successor, was an object of dislike and dread
to Louise de Savoie, the king's mother, because of
her unbounded influence over Francois. When he
returned to France, after his captivity in Spain

Viii INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

following upon his defeat at Pavia, his passion for
Madame de Chateaubriand was found to have in
creased rather than diminished. In looking about
for some means to kill this passion, and in that
way put an end to the influence of the favorite,
Louise de Savoie was not obliged to go beyond the
lovely and licentious circle of her own maids of
honor. She found in Anne de Pisseleu, Made
moiselle d'Heilly, that combination of loveliness,
youth, frailty, and forwardness which she required
for her purpose, and so arranged her first presenta
tion to the king that the desired effect was pro
duced almost immediately. It was not long before
a suitably complaisant husband was found for the
new divinity, in the person of the Due d'Etampes,
and she had soon entirely supplanted Madame de
Chateaubriand, driven her from court, and entered
upon a period of queenly power and magnificence,
which was to endure with little change or diminu
tion for full twenty years, and until the death of
her royal lover and slave in 1547.

" His excessive passion for the artful favorite
blinded him to her vices," says Miss Pardoe. "Al
ready had she taught him that her love was to be
retained only by an entire devotion ; and even
while he suffered her to become the arbiter of his
own actions, she betrayed him with a recklessness
as bold as it was degrading. Nothing, moreover,

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. ix

could satisfy her rapacity; and while distress,
which amounted almost to famine, oppressed the
lower classes of the citizens, she greedily seized
upon every opportunity of enriching herself and
aggrandizing her family." l

The following passage from the same interesting
and painstaking work, if compared with the epi
sode in " Ascanio " of Madame d'EtampQp's designs
upon Colombe, will serve to illustrate the extreme
fidelity to historical truth, even in what may seem
to he minor matters, which so amply justifies the
title of " Historical Romances " as applied to this
and many other of Dumas's works : —

" We pass over, for obvious reasons, the minor
influences, each perhaps insignificant in itself, but
in the aggregate fearfully mischievous, which were
exercised by the fair and frail maids of honor, each,
or nearly each, being in her turn the ' Cynthia of
the minute,' and more than one of whom owed her
temporary favor to the Duchesse d'Etampes herself,
whose secret intrigues and undisguised ambition
absorbed more of her time than could have been
left at her disposal, had she not provided the
inconstant but exacting monarch with some new
object of interest; and the tact with which she
selected these facile beauties was not one of the

1 The Court and Reign of Francis I., King of France, Vol. II
Chap. XI.

X INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

least of her talents. Never, upon any occasion,
did she direct the attention of the king to a woman
whose intellect might have secured, after the spell
of her beauty had ceased to attract him. The
young and the lovely were her victims only when
their youth and their loveliness were their sole
attractions. She was ever ready to supply her
royal lover with a new mistress, but never with a
friend, a companion, or a counsellor ; and then, as
she had rightly foreseen, the French Sardanapalus
soon became sated by the mere prettiness of his
female satellites, and returned to his allegiance to
herself, weaned, and more her slave than ever." 1

A curious parallel in this regard may be noted
between the course of the Duchesse d'Etampes
and the similar one pursued by Madame de
Pompadour, two centuries later, to maintain her
power over the prematurely aged Louis XV. The
policy of this " minister in petticoats " was em
bodied in the institution of the famous, or infa
mous, Parc-aux-Cerfs.

The request of the Emperor Charles V. to be
allowed to pass through France on his way to chas
tise the rebellious people of Ghent, and the conflict
ing emotions to which it gave rise at the French
court, have been much discussed by historians. It
seems to have been the case that the Conne'table

1 Mine Pardoe, Vol. III. Chap. I.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. xi

Anne de Montmorency — then in the prime of life,
and whom readers of the " Two Dianas " will re
member in his old age as the loser of the battle
of Saint-Laurent, and the favored rival of King
Henri II. in the affections of Diane de Poitiers —
was the only one of the king's advisers who op
posed requiring Charles to give sureties of his
peaceable intentions, and to declare in writing that
he traversed France only upon sufferance. The
constable's advice was adopted, notwithstanding
the opposition of Madame d'Etampes, who strongly
urged the king to take revenge for his own impris
onment at Madrid by improving the opportunity to
inflict the same treatment upon his life-long rival
and adversary. The incident of Triboulet, the
jester, and the tablets upon which he inscribed
the names of the greatest fools in the world, is
historical.

The anecdote of the presentation of the diamond
ring by the Emperor to the favorite is told by Miss
Pardoe substantially as by Dumas, but it is rejected
by most historians of the time. There is no ques
tion, however, that the duchess was so alarmed by
the condition of the king's health, which was pre
maturely impaired by his dissolute life, and so
apprehensive of her own fate when he should be
succeeded by the Dauphin Henri, then a willing
slave to the charms of her bitter enemy, Diane de

xii INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

Poitiers, that she exerted herself to the utmost to
win the affection of the young Due d'Orle'ans, and
to procure some sort of an independent govern
ment for him. All her plans in that direction were
defeated by that prince's death of the plague in
1545.

The dazzling and voluptuous Diane de Poitiers,
mistress of two kings of France, the beautiful and
accomplished, but cruel and treacherous Catherine
de Medicis, wife of one and mother of three, are
familiar historical characters, with whom Dumas
has dealt more fully in others of his works.

The learned and accomplished author of the
" Heptameron," Marguerite de Valois, Queen of
Navarre and sister of Frangois I., of whom we
obtain a fleeting glimpse or two, is in many re
spects the most attractive personality of the time.
It is a cause for deep regret, however, that her
great affection for her brother did not lead her to
exert her undoubted influence over him to a better
end.

As we pass from the king and his immediate
circle, to glance for a moment at the other charac
ters, with whom and with certain passages in their
lives the romance before us is mainly concerned,
we venture to quote once more the same author so
copiously quoted heretofore : —

" One merit must, however, be conceded to Anne

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. xiii

de Pisseleu ; and as throughout her whole career
we have been unable to trace any other good quality
which she possessed, it cannot be passed over in
silence. Educated highly for the period, she loved
study for its own sake, and afforded protection to
men of letters ; although it must be admitted that,
wherever her passions or vanity were brought into
play, she abandoned them and their interests with
out hesitation or scruple. Nevertheless it is cer
tain that she co-operated, not only willingly, but
even zealously, with the king, in attracting to
the court of France all the distinguished talent of
Europe." l

The favorite's passions and vanity were brought
into play in the case of Benvenuto Cellini, and she
certainly abandoned him and his interests without
hesitation or scruple.

The principal source whence our knowledge of
this extraordinary man is drawn, is his own Auto
biography, which has been several times translated
into English, most recently by that eminent author
and critic, the late John Addington Symonds.

The following extracts from the translator's
scholarly Introduction will serve a useful purpose
in that they will show that the picture drawn of
him by Dumas is in no sense exaggerated, and that
he really possessed the extraordinary character-

1 Miss Pardoe. Vol. II. Chap XI.

xiv INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

istics attributed to him in the following pages, and
which would seem almost incredible without some
confirmatory evidence : —

" A book which the great Goethe thought worthy
of translating into German with the pen of * Faust '
and ' Wilhelm Meister,' a book which Auguste
Comte placed upon his very limited list for the
perusal of reformed humanity, is one with which
we have the right to be occupied, not once or twice,
but over and over again.

" No one was less introspective than this child of
the Italian Renaissance. No one was less occupied
with thoughts about thinking or with the presen
tation of psychological experience. Vain, ostenta
tious, self-laudatory, and self-engrossed as Cellini
was, he never stopped to analyze himself. . . . The
word ' confessions ' could not have escaped his lips ;
a Journal Intime would have been incomprehen
sible to his fierce, virile spirit. His Autobiography
is the record of action and passion. Suffering,
enjoying, enduring, working with restless activity ;
hating, loving, hovering from place to place as im
pulse moves him ; the man presents himself dra
matically by his deeds and spoken words, never by
his ponderings or meditative breedings.

" In addition to these solid merits, his life, as
Horace Walpole put it, is * more amusing than

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. XV

any novel.' We have a real man to deal with, — a
man so realistically brought before us that we seem
to hear him speak and see him move ; a man,
moreover, whose eminently characteristic works of
art in a great measure still survive among us. Yet
the adventures of this potent human actuality will
bear comparison with those of Gil Bias, or the
Comte de Monte Cristo, or Quentin Durward, or
Les Trois Mousquetaires, for their variety and pun
gent interest.

" But what was the man himself ? It is just this
question which I have half promised to answer,
implying that, as a translator, I have some special
right to speak upon the subject.

" Well, then : I seem to know Cellini first of all
as a man possessed by intense, absorbing egotism ;
violent, arrogant, self-assertive, passionate ; con
scious of great gifts for art, physical courage, and
personal address. ... To be self-reliant in all cir
cumstances ; to scheme and strike, if need be, in
support of his opinion or his right ; to take the
law into his own hands for the redress of injury
or insult ; — this appeared to him the simple duty
of an honorable man. . . . He possessed the tem
perament of a born artist, blent in almost equal
proportions with that of a born bravo. Through
out the whole of his tumultuous career these two

xvi INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

strains contended in his nature for mastery. Upon
the verge of fifty-six, when a man's blood has gen
erally cooled, we find that he was released from
prison on bail, and bound over to keep the peace
for a year with some enemy whose life was prob
ably in danger ; and when I come to speak about
his homicides, it will be obvious that he enjoyed
killing live men quite as much as casting bronze
statues.

" He consistently poses as an injured man, whom
malevolent scoundrels and malignant stars con
spired to persecute. Nor does he do this with any
bad faith. His belief in himself remained firm as
adamant, and he candidly conceived that he was
under the special providence of a merciful and
loving God, who appreciated his high and virtuous
qualities."

Bearing in mind that all the seemingly fabulous
anecdotes related of Cellini, or put into his own
mouth, by Dumas, are actually told by himself in
his Autobiography, the conclusions of Mr. Sy
monds as to the artist's veracity cannot fail to be
interesting : —

" Among Cellini's faults I do not reckon either
baseness or lying. He was not a rogue, and he
meant to be veracious. This contradicts the com
monplace and superficial view of his character

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. xvii

so flatly that I must support my opinion at some
length. Of course I shall not deny that a fellow
endowed with such overweening self-conceit, when
he comes to write about himself, will set down
much which cannot be taken entirely on trust. . . .
Men of his stamp are certain to exaggerate their
own merits, and to pass lightly over things not
favorable to the ideal they present. But this is
very different from lying ; and of calculated men
dacity Cellini stands almost universally accused.
I believe that view to be mistaken."

Passing from general considerations to partic
ular instances of Cellini's alleged falsehoods, the
learned translator proceeds to discuss at some
length many of the miraculous experiences and
remarkable statements of Cellini, which are to be
found in these volumes. For example, the found
ing of Florence by an imaginary ancestor of his own,
named Fiorino da Cellino, a captain in the army of
Julius Caesar ; and his claim that he shot the Con
stable of Bourbon from the ramparts of Rome in
1527, as to which Mr. Symonds says : " Bourbon
had been shot dead in the assault of Rome upon that
foggy morning, and Cellini had certainly discharged
his arquebuse from the ramparts. ... If it were
possible to put his thoughts about this event into
a syllogism, it would run as follows : ' Somebody
shot Bourbon.; I shot somebody ; being what I am,

VOL I.-

XViii INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

I am inclined to think the somebody I shot was
Bourbon."

It would be a much simpler task to make a list of
the fictitious characters and incidents in " Ascanio,"
than to enumerate those whose existence or occur
rence is well authenticated. Colombe and her
governess are apparently creations of the novelist's
brain, and the same is true of Hermann, little Jehan,
Jacques Aubry and his light o' love. The Provost
of Paris was Jean d'Estouteville, not Robert d'Es-
tourville ; but he was actually in possession of the
Petit-Nesle, which was the abode granted to Ben-
venuto by a deed which is still extant, as are the
letters of naturalization bestowed upon him. The
trouble experienced by Cellini in obtaining posses
sion of the Petit-Nesle is considerably overdrawn,
and it does not appear that Ascanio was ever im
prisoned. Ascanio's character throughout is rep
resented in a different light from that in which it
appears in the Autobiography, although he is there
said to be " a lad of marvellous talents, and, more
over, so fair of person that every one who once set
eyes on him seemed bound to love him beyond
measure." Benvenuto had much trouble with him,
and used continually to beat him; and he was very
wroth when he found that his apprentice had been
using the head of the mammoth statue of Mars as
a trysting place, where he was accustomed to meet

INTRODUCTORY NOTE. xix

a frail damsel of his acquaintance. Benvenuto
tells the story of the injury to the hand of Raffaello
del Moro's daughter, and of his own share in her
cure ; but the element of romance is altogether
wanting in his own narrative of the relations be
tween himself and that " very beautiful " young
woman.

Catherine and Scozzone (Scorzone) were two
women, not one, both models and ephemeral mis
tresses of the artist. The episode of the amours
of Pagolo and Catherine is a very much softened
version of an almost unreadable passage in the
memoirs. Of the episode itself, as told by Cellini,
Mr. Symonds says that it is one over which his
biographers would willingly draw the veil.

It is impossible to imagine a more natural conse
quence of Benvenuto's peculiar temperament than
his absolute failure to make himself persona grata
to the arrogant, self-seeking mistress of the King of
France. Frangois was oftentimes hard put to it to
reconcile his admiration for the work of the artist
with his desire to please the favorite ; but in pres
ence of one of his masterpieces the former senti
ment generally carried the day, — notably on the
occasion of the exhibition of the Jupiter at Fon-
tainebleau, in competition with the antique statues
brought from Rome by Primaticcio. After describ
ing the scene in the gallery substantially as it is

XX INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

described in the novel, Cellini says : " The king
departed sooner than he would otherwise have
done," (on account of the rage of the duchess,)
" calling aloud, however, to encourage me, ' I have
brought from Italy the greatest man who ever
lived, endowed with all the talents.' "

A passage in Mr. Symonds's Introduction to the
Life, too long to be quoted here, shows that Ben-
venuto left France somewhat under a cloud, and
followed by suspicions of dishonest dealing, which
have never been quite satisfactorily cleared away.

Enough has been said to show that in this book,
as always in his historical romances, Dumas has
substantially rewritten a chapter of history, — for
the visit of Benvenuto Cellini to Paris has been
deemed worthy of notice at considerable length
by more than one grave chronicler; and he has
again demonstrated his very exceptional power of
interweaving history and fiction in such a way as
to make each embellish the other.

LIST OF CHARACTERS.

Period, 1540.

FRANCOIS I., King of France.

ELEANORA, his queen, sister to Charles V.

THE DAUPHIN, afterwards Henri II.

CHARLES D'ORLEANS, the king's second son.

THE DAUPUINE, Catherine de Medicis.

THE EMPEROR CHARLES V.

THE KING or NAVARRE.

MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, Queen of Navarre.

ANNE DE PISSELEU, Duchesse d'Etampes, favorite of Franjois L

DIANE DE POITIERS.

BENVENUTO CELLINI, a Florentine artist.

ASCANIO, his pupil.

MESSIRE ROBERT D'ESTOURVILLE, Provost of Paris.

COLOMBE, his daughter.

COMTE D'ORBEC, the king's treasurer.

VICOMTE DE MARMAGNE, a suitor for Colombe's hand.

THE DUKE OF MEDINA-SIDONIA, ambassador of Charles V.

MONSIEUR DE MONTBIUON, governor of Charles d'Orleans.

CONSTABLE ANNE DE MONTMORENCY,I

CHANCELLOR POYET,

CARDINAL DE TOURNON,

MESSIRE ANTOINE LE

COMTE DE LA FAYE, }• of the French Court.

MARQUIS DES PRES,

MELIN DE SAINT-GELAIS,

M. DE TERMES,

HENRI D'ESTIENNE,

PIETRO STROZZI, a Florentine refugee.

• assistants of Cellini.

LIST OF CHARACTERS.

TRIBOULET, the king's jester.

FRANCOIS RABELAIS.

CLEMENT MAKOT.

PAGOLO,

J EH AN,

SIMON LE-GAUCHER,

HERMANN, J

SCOZZONE, Cellini's model.

RUPEKTA, servant to Cellini.

DAME PERRINE, Colombo's governess.

PULCHERIA, her assistant.

MASTER JACQUES, Messire d'Estourville's gardener.

ISABEAU, attendant of Madame d'Etampes.

ANDRE, physician to Madame d'Etampes.

JACQUES AUBRY, a student, attaching himself to the service of

Cellini.

GERVAISE-PERRETTE POPINOT, a grisette.
FRANCESCO PRIMATICCIO, a painter, friend to Cellini.
GUIDO, a Florentine physician.
FERRANTE, '

's ' • bravos employed by Vicomte de Marmagne.

x ROCOPE,

MALEDENT,-

THE LIEUTENANT CRIMINAL OF THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE.

MARC-BONIFACE GRIMOINEAU, his clerk.

ETIENNE RAYMOND, a prisoner at the Chatelet.

A PRIEST AT THE CHATELET.

POPE CLEMENT VII.

MASTER GEORGIO, governor of the Castle of San Angelo.

MONSETGNEUR DE MoNTLUC, French ambassador at Rome.

POMPEO, a goldsmith at Rome.

RAPHAEL DEL MORO, a Florentine goldsmith.

STEFANA, his daughter.

GISMONDO GADDI, a confrere of Del Moro.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE STREET AND THE STUDIO .... 1

II. A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 19

III. D.EDALUS 32

IV. SCOZZONE .... 54

V. GENIUS AND ROYALTY 65

VI. TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT . 80

VII. A LOVER AND A FRIEND 100

VIII. PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE 117

IX. THRUST AND PARRY 135

X. OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS 152

XI. OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES . . 166

XII. THE KING'S QUEEN 188

XIII. SOUVEXT FEMME VARIE 201

XIV. WHEREIN IT is PROVEN THAT SORROW is

THE GROUNDWORK OF THE LIFE OF MAN 222

XV. WHEREIN IT APPEARS THAT JOY is NOTH
ING MORE THAN SORROW IN ANOTHER

FORM 235

XVI. A COURT 248

XVII. LOVE AS PASSION 256

XVIII. LOVE AS A DREAM 268

XIX. LOVE AS AN IDEA . 278

A S C A N 1 0.

i.

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO.

TIME, four o'clock in the afternoon of the tenth day of
July in the year of grace 1540. Place, the entrance to
the church Des Grands Augustins, within the precincts of
the University, by the receptacle for holy water near the
door.

A tall, handsome youth, olive-skinned, with long wav
ing locks and great black eyes, simply but elegantly clad,
his only weapon a little dagger with a hilt of marvellous
workmanship, was standing there, and, doubtless from
motives of pure piety and humility, had not stirred from
the spot throughout the vespers service. With head
bowed in an attitude of devout contemplation, he was
murmuring beneath his breath I know not what words,
— his prayers let us hope, — for he spoke so low that
none but himself and God could hear what he might say.
As the service drew near its close, however, he raised his
voice slightly, and they who stood nearest him could hear
these half-audible words : —

" How wretchedly these French monks drone out their
psalms ! Could they not sing more melodiously before
her, whose ear should be accustomed to angels' voices?
VOL. i. — 1

2 ASCANIO.

Ah ! this is well ; the vespers are at an end at last.
Mon Dieu ! inon Dieu ! grant that I be more fortunate to
day than on last Sunday, and that she do at least raise
her eyes to my face ! "

This last prayer was most artful, in very truth ; for if
she to whom it was addressed should chance to raise her
«yes to the suppliant's face, she would see the most ado
rable youthful head that she had ever seen in dreams,
while reading the clever mythological tales which were
so fashionable at the time, by virtue of the charming
couplets of Master Clement Marot, and which told of the
loves of Psyche and the death of Narcissus. Indeed,
beneath his simple sober-hued costume, the youth whom
we have introduced to our readers was remarkably hand
some, and wore an air of unmistakable refinement : more
over, his smile was infinitely sweet and attractive, and
his glance, which dared not yet be bold, was as ardent
and impassioned as ever flashed from the great speaking
eyes of eighteen years.

Meanwhile, upon hearing the movement of many chairs
announcing the end of the service, our lover, — for the
reader will have discovered from the few words he has
uttered that he is entitled to be so described, — our
lover, I say, drew aside a little, and watched the congre
gation pass silently forth, — a congregation composed of
staid church-wardens, respectable matrons past their giddy
days, and prepossessing damsels. But for none of these
had the youth come thither, for his glance did not
brighten, nor did he step impulsively forward, until he
saw approach a maiden dressed in white, and attended by
a duenna, — a duenna of high station, be it understood, —
who seemed accustomed to the ways of society, a duenna
not unyouthful nor unattractive, and by no means savage
in appearance. "When the two ladies approached the

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 3

basin of holy water, our youth took some of the liquid
and gallantly offered it to them.

The duenna bestowed the most gracious of smiles and
most grateful of courtesies upon him, and even touched
his fingers as she took the cup, which, to his great cha
grin, she herself handed to her companion ; but the lat
ter, notwithstanding the fervent prayer whereof she had
been the object a few moments before, kept her eyes con
stantly upon the ground, — a sure proof that she knew the
comely youth was there, — so that the comely youth,
when she had passed, stamped upon the flags, mattering,
" Alas ! again she did not see me." An equally sure
proof that the comely youth was, as we have said, no
more than eighteen years old.

But after the first burst of vexation, our unknown
hastened -down the steps of the church, and, seeing that
the absent-minded beauty, having lowered her veil and
taken her attendant's arm, had turned to the right, has
tened to take the same direction, observing that his own
home chanced to lie that way. The maiden followed the
quay as far as Pont Saint-Michel, and crossed Pont Saint-
Michel ; still it was our hero's road. She next passed
through Rue de la Barillerie, and crossed Pont au Change ;
and as she was still pursuing our hero's road, our hero
followed her like her shadow.

Every pretty girl's shadow is a lover.

But alas ! when she reached the Grand Chatelet, the
lovely star, whereof our unknown had made himself the
satellite, was suddenly eclipsed : the wicket of the royal
prison opened the instant that the duenna knocked, and
closed again behind them.

The young man was taken aback for a moment ; but as
he was a very decided fellow when there was no pretty
girl at hand to weaken his resolution, he very soon made
up his mind what course to pursue.

4 ASCANIO.

A sergeant, pike on shoulder, was walking sedately
back and forth before the door of the Chatelet. Our
youthful unknown followed the example of the worthy
sentinel, and, having walked on a short distance to avoid
observation, but not so far as to lose sight of the door, he
heroically began his amorous sentry-go.

If the reader has ever done sentry duty in the course
of his life, he must have noticed that one of the surest
means of making the time pass quickly is to commune
with one's self. Our hero doubtless was accustomed to
such duty, for he had hardly begun his promenade when
he addressed the following monologue to himself : —

" Assuredly it cannot be that she lives in yonder
prison. This morning after mass, and these last two Sun
days when I dared not follow her save with my eyes, —
dullard that I was ! — she turned not to the right upon
the quay, but to the left, toward the Porte de Nesle, and
the Pre-aux-Clercs. What the devil brings her to the
Chatelet 1 What can it be ? To see a prisoner, perhaps,
her brother 't is most like. Poor girl ! she must suffer
cruelly, for doubtless she is as sweet and kind as she is
lovely. Pardieu ! I 'm sorely tempted to accost her,
ask her frankly who it is, and offer my services. If it be
her brother, I '11 tell the patron the whole story, and ask
his advice. When one has escaped from the Castle of
San Angelo, as he has, one has a shrewd idea of the best
way to get out of prison. There 's no more to be said :
I "11 save her brother. After I have rendered him such
a service, he '11 be my friend for life and death. Of
course he '11 ask me then what he can do for me when I
have done so much for him. Then I '11 confess that I
love his sister. He '11 present me to her, and then we '11
see if she won't raise her eyes."

Once launched upon such a course, we need not say how

THE STREET AND THE STUDTO. 5

a lover's thoughts flow on unchecked. Thus it was that
our youth was vastly amazed to hear the clock strike
four, and see the sentinel relieved.

The new sergeant began his promenade, and the young
man resumed his. His method of passing time had suc
ceeded too well for him not to continue to make use of
it; so he resumed his discourse upon a theme no less
fruitful of ideas than the other : —

" How lovely she is ! how graceful every movement !
how modest her bearing ! how classic the outline of her
features ! There is in the whole world no other than
Leonardo da Vinci or the divine Raphael, worthy to
reproduce the image of that chaste and spotless being ;
nor would they prove equal to the task, save at the very
zenith of their talent. 0 mon Dieu ! why am not I a
painter, rather than a sculptor, worker in enamel, or gold
smith ? First of all, were I a painter, there 'd be no need
that I should have her before my eyes to make her por
trait. I should never cease to see her great blue eyes,
her beautiful blonde tresses, her pearly skin and slender
form. Were I a painter, I should paint her face in every
picture, as Sanzio did with Fornarina, and Andrea del
Sarto with Lucrezia. And what a contrast betwixt her
and Fornarina ! in sooth, neither the one nor the other
is worthy to unloose her shoe laces. In the first place,
Fornarina — "

The youth was not at the end of his comparisons,
which were, as the reader will imagine, uniformly to the
advantage of his inamorata, when the hour struck.

The second sentinel was relieved.

" Six o'clock ! 'T is strange how the time flies ! " mut
tered the youth, " and if it flies thus quickly while I wait
for her, how should it be if I were by her side ! Ah !
by her side I should lose count of time ; I should be in

6 ASCANIO.

paradise. If I were by her side, I should but look at
her, and so the hours and days and months would pass.
What a blissful life that would be, mon Dieu ! " and the
young man lost himself in an ecstatic reverie ; for his
mistress, though absent, seemed to pass in person before
his eyes, — the eyes of a true artist.

The third sentinel was relieved.

Eight o'clock struck on all the parish churches, and the
shades of night began to fall, for all authorities are in ac
cord that the twilight hour in July three hundred years
ago was in the neighborhood of eight o'clock, as now ; but
what is perhaps more astonishing than that is the fabu
lous perseverance of a sixteenth century lover. All pas
sions were ardent in those days, and vigorous young
hearts no more stopped short in love than in art or war.

However, the patience of the young artist — for he has
let us into the secret of his profession — was rewarded at
last, when he saw the ponderous door of the Chatelet
open for the twentieth time, but this time to give pas
sage to her for whom he was waiting. The same chape
ron was still at her side, and furthermore, two archers of
the provost's guard followed ten paces behind her, as
escort.

They retraced the steps they had taken four hours
earlier, to wit the Pont au Change, Rue de la Barillerie,
Pont Saint-Michel, and the quays ; but they kept on by
the Grands Augustins, and some three hundred yards
beyond paused before a huge door in a recess in the wall,
beside which was another smaller door for the servants'
use. The duenna knocked at the great door, which was
opened by the porter. The two archers, after saluting
their charge with the utmost respect, returned to the
Chatelet, and our artist found himself standing for the
second time outside a closed door.

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 7

He would probably have remained there until morn
ing, for he was fairly embarked on the fourth series of his
dreams ; but chance willed that a passer by, who had im
bibed something too freely, collided violently with him.

" Hola there, friend ! " said the new arrival, " by your
leave, are you a man or a post ? If so be you 're a post,
you 're within your rights and I respect you ; but if you
be a man, stand back, and let me pass."

"Pray pardon me," rejoined the distraught youth,
" but I am a stranger in this good city of Paris,
and — "

" Oh ! that 's another matter ; the Frenchman is always
hospitable, and I ask your pardon ; you 're a stranger,
good. As you have told me who you are, it's only fair
that I should tell you who I am. I am a student, and
my name is — "

"Excuse me," interposed the young artist, "but before I
know who you are, I would be very glad to know where
I am."

" Porte de Nesle, my dear friend ; this is the Hotel de
Nesle," said the student, with a glance at the great door
from which the stranger had not once removed his
eyes.

"Very good; and to reach Eue Saint-Martin, where I
live, which direction must I take ? " said our lovelorn
youth, for the sake of saying something, and hoping thus
to be rid of his companion.

" Hue Saint-Martin, do you say 1 Come with me, I 'm
going that way, and at Pont Saint-Michel I '11 show you
how you must go. As I was saying, I am a student, I
am returning from the Pre-aux-Clercs, and my name
is — "

" Do you know to whom the Hotel de Nesle belongs ? *
asked the young stranger.

8 ASCANIO.

" Marry ! I rather think I know my University !
The Hotel de Nesle, young man, belongs to our lord,
the king, and is at this moment in the hands of Kobert
d'Estourville, Provost of Paris."

" How say you ! that the Provost of Paris lives there ? "

" By no means did I tell you that the Provost of Paris
lives there, my son : the Provost of Paris lives at the
Grand Chatelet."

" Ah, yes ! at the Grand Chatelet ! Then that 's the
explanation. But how happens it that the provost lives
at the Grand Chatelet, and yet the king leaves the Hotel
de Nesle in his possession ? "

" 'T is thus. The king, you see, had given the Hotel
de Nesle to our bailli, a most venerable man, who stood
guard over the privileges of the University, and tried all
suits against it in most paternal fashion : superb functions
his ! Unhappily our excellent bailli was so just — so just
— to us, that his office was abolished two years since,
upon the pretext that he used to sleep when hearing
causes, as if bailli were not derived from bdiller (to
yawn). His office being thus suppressed, the duty of
protecting the interests of the University was intrusted
to the Provost of Paris. A fine protector, on my word !
as if we could not quite as well protect ourselves ! Now,
our said provost — dost thou follow me, my child ? — our
said provost, who is most rapacious, opined that, since he
succeeded to the bailli's office, he ought at the same time
to inherit his possessions, and so he quietly laid hold of
the Grand and Petit-Nesle, thanks to the patronage of
Madame d'Etampes."

" And yet, you say, he does not occupy it."

" Not he, the villain. I think, however, that the old
Cassandre lodges a daughter there, or niece, a lovely child
called Colombo or Colombine, or some such name, and

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 9

keeps her under lock and key in a corner of the Petit
Nesle."

" Ah ! is it so 1 " exclaimed the artist, hardly able to
breathe, for it was the first time that he had heard his
mistress's name ; " this usurpation seems to me a shock
ing abuse. What ! this vast hotel to shelter one young
girl with her duenna ! "

" Whence comest thou, O stranger, not to know that
nothing comes to pass more naturally than this abuse, —
that we poor clerks should live six together in a
wretched garret, while a great nobleman casts this im
mense property with its gardens, lawns, and tennis-court
to the dogs ! "

" Ah ! there is a tennis-court ! "

" Magnificent, my son ! magnificent ! *'

"But this Hotel de Nesle, you say, is actually the
property of King Frai^ois I."

" To be sure : but what would you have King
Francois I. do with this property of his?"

" Why, give it to others, as the provost does n't oc
cupy it."

" Very good ! then go and ask it of him for
yourself."

" Why not? Tell me, does the game of tennis please
your fancy ? "

" I fairly dote on it."

"In that case I invite you to a game with me next
Sunday."

" Where, pray ? "

" At the Hotel de Nesle."

" Gramercy ! my lord grand master of the royal
chateaux ! 'Tis meet that you should know my name at
least — "

But as the young stranger knew all that he cared to

10 ASCANIO.

know, and as the rest probably interested him but little,
he heard not a word of his new friend's story, as he pro
ceeded to tell him in detail that his name was Jacques
Aubry, that he was a scrivener at the University, and was
now returning from the Pr^-aux-Clercs, where he had had
an assignation with his tailor's wife ; that she, detained no
doubt by her wrathful spouse, did not appear ; that he had
consoled himself for Simonne's absence by drinking good
Suresne ; and, lastly, that he proposed to withdraw his
custom from the discourteous Master Snip, who compelled
him to wear himself out with waiting, and to get tipsy
which was altogether opposed to all his habits.

When the two young men reached Hue de la Harpe,
Jacques Aubry pointed out to our unknown the road he
was to follow, which he knew even better than his infor
mant : they then made an appointment for the following
Sunday at noon at the Porte de Nesle, and parted, one
singing, the other dreaming.

He who dreamed had abundant food for dreaming, for
he had learned more during that one evening than in the
three weeks preceding.

He had learned that the maiden to whom he had given
his heart, lived at the Petit-Nesle, that she was the
daughter of Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of
Paris, and that her name was Colombo. As will be seen,
he had not wasted his day.

Still dreaming he turned into Rue Saint-Martin, and
stopped before a handsome house, over the door of which,
were carved the arms of the Cardinal of Ferrara. He
knocked three times.

" Who 's there ? " demanded a fresh, resonant young
voice from within, after an interval of a few seconds.

" I, Dame Catherine," replied the unknown.

" Who are you 1 "

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 11

" Ascanio."

" Ah ! at last ! "

The door opened, and Ascanio entered.

A charming girl of some eighteen to twenty years,
rather dark, rather small, very quick of movement, and
admirably well shaped withal, welcomed him with trans
ports of joy.

" Here 's the deserter ! here he is ! " she cried, and
ran, or rather bounded on before, to announce him, ex
tinguishing the lamp she carried, and leaving open the
street door, which Ascanio, less giddy-pated than she,
was careful to secure.

The young man, although Dame Catherine's precipita
tion left him in darkness, walked with assured step across
a courtyard of considerable size, in which every tile was
surrounded by a border of rank weeds, the whole domi
nated by a sombre mass of tall buildings of somewhat
severe aspect. It was the frowning and humid dwell
ing-place of a cardinal, although its master had not for a
long time dwelt therein.

Ascanio sprang lightly up a flight of moss-grown steps,
and entered a vast hall, the only room in the house that
was lighted, — a sort of conventual refectory, ordinarily
dark and gloomy and untenantfid, but which for two
months past had been filled with light and life and
music.

For two months past, in truth, this cold colossal cell
had been instinct with bustling, laughing, good-humored
life ; for two months past, ten work -benches, two anvils,
and an improvised forge had seemed to lessen the size of
the vast room ; sketches, models, benches laden with pin
cers, hammers, and files, sheaves of swords with chased
hilts of marvellous workmanship, and carved open-work
blades, helmets, cuirasses, and bucklers, gold-embossed,

12 ASCANIO.

whereon the loves of the gods and goddesses were por
trayed in 'relief, as if to turn the mind away from the
purpose for which they were destined to he used, had
covered the grayish walls. The sun had freely found
its way in through the wide-open windows, and the air
had been filled with the songs of joyous, active workers.

A cardinal's refectory had become a goldsmith's work
shop.

However, during this evening of July 10, 1540, the
sanctity of the Sabbath had temporarily restored to the
newly enlivened apartment the tranquillity in which it had
lain dormant for a century. But a table, upon which the
remains of an excellent supper lay about in confusion,
lighted by a lamp which one would take to have been
stolen from the ruins of Pompeii, of so chaste and delicate
a form was it, proved that, if the temporary occupants of
the cardinal's mansion did sometimes enjoy repose, they
were in no wise addicted to fasting.

When Ascanio entered there were four persons in the
workshop.

These four persons were an old maid servant, who was
removing the dishes from the table, Catherine, who was
relighting the lamp, a young man sketching in a corner,
and waiting for the lamp which Catherine had taken
from before him in order to continue his work, and the
master, standing with folded arms, and leaning against
the forge.

The last would inevitably have been the first to be
observed by any one entering the workshop.

Indeed, there was an indescribable impression of life
and power which emanated from this remarkable person
age, and attracted the attention even of those who would
have chosen to withhold it. He was a tall, spare, power
ful man of some forty years; but it would have needed

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 13

the chisel of Michel- Angelo or the pencil of Ribeira to
trace the outline of that clear-cut profile, to reproduce
that sparkling olive complexion, to depict that bold, al
most kingly expression. His lofty forehead towered
above eyebrows quick to frown ; his straight-forward
piercing glance flashed at times with a light that was
almost sublime ; his frank, good-humored smile, albeit
somewhat satirical, fascinated and awed you at the same
time ; he was accustomed to stroke his black beard and
moustache with his hand, which was not precisely small,
but nervous, supple, with long fingers and great strength,
but withal slender and aristocratic ; lastly, in his way of
looking at you, speaking, turning his head, in all his
quick, expressive, but not intemperate gestures, even in
the careless attitude in which he was standing when
Ascanio entered, his strength made itself felt ; the lion
in repose was none the less the lion.

Catherine and the apprentice working in the corner
formed a most striking contrast to each other. The lat
ter, a sombre, taciturn fellow, with a narrow forehead
already furrowed with wrinkles, half shut eyes, and com
pressed lips ; she as blithe as a bird and blooming as a
flower, with the most mischievous of eyes always to be
seen beneath her restless eyelids, and the whitest of teeth
within her mouth, constantly half opened with a smile.
The apprentice, buried in his corner, Avas slow and lan
guid in his movements, as if economizing his strength ;
Catherine was here and there, going and coming, never
remaining one second in one spot, so did her youth
ful active organization overflow with Jife and spirits,
and feel the need of constant movement in default of
excitement.

Thus she was the fairy of the household, a very sky
lark by virture of her vivacity, and her clear, piercing

14 ASCANIO.

note, beginning life with such a joyous disregard of every
thing beyond the moment as to fully justify the surname
of Scozzone which the master had given her ; an Italian
word which signified then, and still signifies, something
very like casse-cou (break-neck). And yet, with all her
childish ways, Scozzone was so instinct with witchery and
charm that she was the life and soul of the household ;
when she sang all the others were silent ; when she
laughed they laughed with her; when she ordered they
obeyed without a word, — albeit she was not ordinarily
exacting in her caprice ; and then she was so frankly and
innocently happy, that she diffused an atmosphere of
good humor wherever she went, and it made others glad
to see her gladness.

Her story was an old, old story, to which we may per
haps recur : an orphan, bom of the people, she was aban
doned in her infancy, but God protected her. Destined
to afford pleasure to everybody, she met a man to whom
she afforded pure happiness.

Having introduced these new characters, we now re
sume the thread of our narrative where we let it drop.

" Aha ! whence comest thou, gadabout ? " said the
master to Ascanio.

" Whence do I come 1 I come from gadding about for
you, master."

" Since morning ? "

" Since morning."

" Say rather that thou hast been in quest of adven
ture?"

" What manner of adventure should I have been in
quest of, master?" murmured Ascanio.

"How can I know, pray1!"

" Well, well ! and if it were so, where's the harm ? "
interposed Scozzone. " Indeed, he 's a pretty boy enough

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 15

to have adventures run after him, even though he run
not after adventures."

" Scozzoue ! " said the master with a frown.

" Come, come ! don't you be jealous of him, too, poor,
dear boy ! " And she raised Ascanio's chin with her
hand. " Ah, well ! it only needed that. But, Jesu !
how pale you are ! Does it happen that you have n't
supped, monsieur vagabond ? "

" Faith, no," cried Ascanio ; " I forgot it."

" Oho ! in that case I take sides with the master ; he
forgot that he had not supped, so he must be in love.
Euperta ! Ruperta ! bring supper for Messire Ascanio at
once."

The servant produced several dishes of appetizing
relics of the evening meal, which our hero pounced upon
with an appetite by no means unnatural after his pro
longed exercise in the open air.

Scozzone and the master watched him, smiling the
while, one with sisterly affection, the other with a father's
love. The young man at work in the corner had raised
his head when Ascanio entered ; but as soon as Scozzone
replaced in front of him the lamp she had taken when
she ran to open the door, he bent his head over his
work once more.

" I was saying, master, that it was for you I have been
running about all day," resumed Ascanio, noticing the
mischievous expression of the master and Scozzone, and
desiring to lead the conversation to some other subject
than his love affairs.

"How hast thou run about all day for me? Let us
hear."

" Did you not say yesterday that the light was very
bad here, and that you must have another studio ? "

" Even so."

16 ASCANIO.

" Well, I have found one for you."

" Dost thou hear, Pagolo ? " said the master, turning to
the young man in the corner.

"What did you say, master?" he asked, raising his
head a second time.

11 Come, lay aside thy work a moment, and listen to
this. He has found a workshop : dost thou hear?"

" Pardon, master, but I can hear very well from here
what my friend Ascanio may say. I would like to com
plete this study ; it seems to me that it is well, when one
has piously fulfilled the duties of a Christian on the
Sabbath day, to employ one's leisure in some profitable
exercise : to work is to pray."

"Pagolo, my friend," said the master, shaking his
head more in sadness than in anger, " you would do bet
ter, believe me, to work more assiduously and heartily
through the week, and enjoy yourself on Sunday like a
good comrade, than to idle as you do on ordinary days,
and hypocritically set yourself apart from the others by
feigning so much ardor in your work on fete-days ; but
you are your own master, act as seems good to you. And
thou sayest, Ascanio, my child?" he continued in a tone
in which infinite gentleness and affection were mingled.

" I say that I have found a magnificent workshop for
you."

"Where?"

"Do you know the Hotel de Nesle ?"

" Perfectly ; that is, by having passed before it, for I
have never been within the door."

" But is its exterior attractive in your eyes?"

" Pardieu ! it is indeed. But — "

"But what?"

" But does no one occupy it, pray ? "

"Marry, yes, Monsieur the Provost of Paris, Messire

THE STREET AND THE STUDIO. 17

Robert d'Estourville, who has taken possession of it
without right. Moreover, to satisfy your scruples on
that head, we might with great propriety leave him the
Petit-Nesle, where some one of his family now dwells, I
think, and be content ourselves with the Grand-Nesle,
and its courtyards, lawns, and bowling-greens and tennis-
court."

" There is a tennis-court ? "

" Finer than that of Santa-Croce at Florence."

" Per Bacco ! and it is my favorite game ; thou didst
know that, Ascanio."

"Yes; and then, master, over and above all that, a
superb location ; air everywhere ; and such air ! perfect
country air, and not such as we get here in this infernal
corner, where we are moulding, forgotten by the sun.
The Pre-aux-Clercs on one side, the Seine on the other,
and the king, your great king, only two steps away, in
his Louvre."

" But whose is this devil of a hotel ? "

" Whose, say you ? Pardieu ! the king's."

" The king's ! Say me that once more, my child, —
the Hotel de Nesle is the king's ! "

" His own ; now it remains to ascertain if he will give
you so magnificent a dwelling-place."

" Who, the king ? How do men call the king,
Ascanio !

" Why, Francois I. if I am not mistaken."

" Which means that the Hotel de Xesle will be my
property within the week."

" But it may be that the Provost of Paris will take
offence."

"What care I for that?"

" But suppose he will not let go what he has in hia
hand ? "

VOL. I. — 2

18 ASCANIO.

"Suppose he will not! — What do men call me,
Ascanio 1 "

" They call you Benvenuto Cellini, master."

" Which means that if the worthy provost will not do
things with good grace, why, we will use force to compel
him to do them. And now let us to bed. To-morrow
we '11 speak further on the matter, and then the sun will
shine, and we shall see more clearly."

At the master's suggestion all retired except Pagolo,
\r ho remained for some time at work in his corner ; but as
soon as he believed that all were safely in bed, the ap
prentice rose, looked about, drew near the table, and
poured for himself a large cup of wine, which he swal
lowed at a draught. Then he too went off to bed.

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 19

II.

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

SINCE we have drawn the portrait and mentioned the
name of Benvenuto Cellini, we crave the reader's per
mission, that he may the more understandingly approach
the artistic subject of which we propose to treat, to
indulge in a short digression upon this extraordinary
man, who at this time had been living in France for
two months, and who is destined to become one of the
principal characters of this history.

But first of all let us say a word as to the goldsmiths
of the sixteenth century.

There is at Florence a bridge called the Ponte-
Vecchio, which is covered with houses to this day;
these houses were in the old days goldsmiths' shops.

But the word is not to be understood as we understand
it to-day. The goldsmith of our day follows a trade;
formerly, the goldsmith was an artist.

So it was that there was nothing in the world so
wondrously beautiful as these shops, or rather as the
articles with which they were stocked. There were
round cups of onyx, around which dragons' tails were
twined, while heads and bodies of those fabulous
creatures confronted one another with gold-bespangled
sky-blue wings outspread, and with jaws wide open
like chimeras, shot threatening glances from their ruby
eyes. There were ewers of agate, with a festoon of

20 ASCANIO.

ivy clinging round the base, and climbing up in guise
of handle well above the orifice, concealing amid its
emerald foliage some marvellous bird from the tropics,
in brilliant plumage of enamel, seemingly alive and
ready to burst forth in song. There were urns of lapis-
lazuli, over the edge of which leaned, as if to drink,
lizards chiselled with such art that one could almost
see the changing reflection of their golden cuirasses,
and might have thought that they would fly at the least
sound, and seek shelter in some crevice in the wall.
Then there were chalices and monstrances, and bronze
and gold and silver medallions, all studded with precious
stones, as if in those days rubies, topazes, carbuncles,
and diamonds could be found by searching in the sand
on river banks, or in the dust of the highroad; and
there were nymphs, naiads, gods, goddesses, a whole
resplendent Olympus, mingled with crucifixes, crosses,
and Calvarys; Mater Dolorosas, Venuses, Christs,
Apollos, Jupiters launching thunderbolts, and Jehovahs
creating the world; and all this not only cleverly
executed, but poetically conceived; not only admirable,
viewed as ornaments for a woman's boudoir, but magnifi
cent masterpieces fit 'to immortalize the reign of a king
or the genius of a nation.

To be sure, the goldsmiths of that epoch bore the
names of Donatello, Ghiberti, Guirlandajo, and Ben-
venuto Cellini.

Now, Benvenuto Cellini has himself described in his
memoirs, which are more interesting than the most
interesting novel, the adventurous life of the artists of
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when Titian was
painting in coat of mail, when Michel-Angelo was
sculpturing with his sword at his side, when Masaccio
and Domenichino died of poison, and Cosmo I. secluded

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 21

himself in his laboratory to discover the mode of temper
ing steel so that it would cut porphyry.

To show the character of the man, we will take a
single episode in his life, — that which was the occasion
of his coming to France.

Benvenuto was at Rome, whither Pope Clement VII.
had summoned him, and was at work with characteristic
ardor upon the beautiful chalice which his Holiness
had ordered ; but as he desired to display his talent at
its best upon the precious work, he made but slow
progress. Now, Benvenuto, as may well be imagined,
had many rivals, who envied him the many valuable
orders he received from the Pope, as well as the marvel
lous skill with which he executed them. The result
was that one of his confreres, named Pompeo, who had
nothing to do but slander his betters, took advantage of
the delay to do him all possible injury in the Pope's
sight, and kept at work persistently, day in and day
out, witho\it truce or relaxation, sometimes in under
tones, sometimes aloud, assuring him that he would
never finish it, and that he was so overwhelmed with
orders that he executed those of other people to the
neglect of his Holiness's.

He said and did so much, did good Pompeo, that
when Benvenuto Cellini saw him enter his workshop
one day with smiling face, he divined at once that he
was the bearer of bad news for him.

"Well, my dear confrere," Pompeo began, "I have
come to relieve you from a heavy burden. His Holiness
realizes that your neglect in completing his chalice is
not due to lack of zeal, but to lack of time; he therefore
considers it no more than just to relieve you from some
one of your important duties, and of his own motion he
dismisses you from the post of Engraver to the Mint,

22 ASCANIO.

It will be nine paltry ducats a month less in your
pocket, but an hour more each day at your disposal."

Benvenuto was conscious of an intense longing to
throw the jeering varlet out of window, but he re
strained his feelings, and Pompeo, seeing that not a
muscle of his face moved, thought that he had missed
his aim.

"Furthermore," he continued, "why, I know not,
but in spite of all that I could say in your behalf, his
Holiness demands his chalice at once, in whatever con
dition it may be. Verily, I am afraid, dear Benvenuto,
I say it in all friendliness, that 'tis his purpose to have
some other finish it."

" Oh, no, not that! " cried the goldsmith, starting up
like one bitten by a serpent. "My chalice is my own,
even as the office at the Mint is the Pope's. His Holi
ness hath no right to do more than bid me return the
five hundred crowns paid to me in advance, and I will
dispose of my work as may seem good to me."

" Beware, my master," said Pompeo; "imprisonment
may be the sequel of your refusal."

" Signore Pompeo, your 're an ass!" retorted Ben
venuto.

Pompeo left the shop in a rage.

On the following day two of the Holy Father's cham
berlains called' upon Bevenuto Cellini.

" The Pope has sent us," said one of them, " either
to receive the chalice at your hands, or to take you to
prison."

" Monsignori," rejoined Benvenuto, " an artist like
myself deserved no less than to be given in charge to
functionaries like yourselves. Here I am; take me to
prison. But I give you fair warning that all this will
not put the Pope's chalice forward one stroke of the
graver. "

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 23

Benvenuto went with them to the governor of the
prison, who, having doubtless received his instructions
in advance, invited him to dine with him. Through
out the repast the governor used every conceivable
argument to induce Benvenuto to satisfy the Pope by
carrying the chalice to him, assuring him that, if he
would make that concession, Clement VII. , violent and
obstinate as he was, would forget his displeasure. But
the artist replied that he had already shown the Holy
Father his chalice six times since he began it, and that
that was all that could justly be required of him; more
over, he said he knew his Holiness, and that he was
not to be trusted; that he might very well, when he
had the chalice in his hands, take it from him altogether,
and give it to some idiot to finish, who would spoil it.
He reiterated his readiness to return the five hundred
crowns paid in advance.

Having said so much, Benvenuto met all subsequent
arguments of the governor by exalting his cook to the
skies, and praising his wines.

After dinner, all his conmpatriots, all his dearest
friends, all his apprentices, led by Ascanio, called upon
him to implore him not to rush headlong to destruction
by resisting the commands of Clement VII. ; but Ben
venuto told them that he had long desired to establish
the great truth that a goldsmith can be- more obstinate
than a Pope ; and as the most favorable opportunity he
could ask for was now at hand, he certainly would not
let it pass, for fear that it might not return.

His compatriots withdrew, shrugging their shoulders,
his friends vowing that he was mad, and Ascanio weep
ing bitterly.

Fortunately Pompeo did not forget Cellini, and mean
while he was saying slyly to the Pope, —

24 ASCANIO.

" Most Holy Father, give your servant a free hand ;
I will send word to this obstinate fellow that, since he is
so determined, he may send me the five hundred crowns;
as he is a notorious spendthrift he will not have that
sum at his disposal, and will be compelled to give up
the chalice to me."

Clement considered this an excellent device, and bade
Pompeo do as he suggested. And so, that same evening,
as Cellini was about to be taken to the cell assigned
him, a chamberlain made his appearance, and informed
the goldsmith that his Holiness accepted his ultimatum,
and demanded the deliver)' of the chalice or the five
hundred crowns without delay.

Benvenuto replied that they had but to take him to
his workshop, and he would give them the five hundred
crowns.

He was escorted thither by four Swiss, accompanied
by the chamberlain. He entered his bedroom, drew a
key from his pocket, opened a small iron closet built
into the wall, plunged his hand into a large bag, took
out five hundred crowns, and, having given them to the
chamberlain, showed him and the four Swiss the door.
It should be said, in justice to Benvenuto Cellini, that
they received four crowns for their trouble, and in
justice to the Swiss, that they kissed his hands as they
took their leave.

The chamberlain returned forthwith to the Holy
Father, and delivered the five hundred crowns, where
upon his Holiness, in his desperation, flew into a
violent rage, and began to abuse Pompeo.

"Go thyself to my great engraver at his workshop,
animal," he said, "employ all the soothing arguments
of which thy ignorant folly is capable, and say to him
that if he will consent to finish my chalice, I will give
him whatever facilities he may require."

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 25

" But, your Holiness, " said Pompeo, " will it not be
time to-morrow morning 1 "

" I fear lest it be already too late this evening,
imbecile, and I do not choose that Benvenuto shall
sleep upon his wrath; therefore do my bidding on the
instant, and let me not fail to have a favorable reply
to-morrow morning at my levee."

Pompeo thereupon left the Vatican with drooping
feathers, and repaired to Benvenuto's workshop; it was
closed.

He peered through the key-hole and through the
cracks in the door, and scrutinized all the windows, one
after another, to see if there was not one which showed
a light; but all were dark. He ventured to knock a
second time somewhat louder than at first, and then a
third time, still louder.

Thereupon a window on the first floor opened, and
Benvenuto appeared in his shirt, arquebus in hand.

" Who 's there ? " he demanded.

" I," the messenger replied.

" Who art thou 1 " rejoined the goldsmith , although
he recognized his man at once.

"Pompeo."

"Thou liest," said Benvenuto; "I know Pompeo
well, and he is far too great a coward to venture out
into the streets of Rome at this hour."

"But, my dear Cellini, I swear — "

"Hold thy peace! thou art a villain, and hast taken
the poor devil's name to induce me to open my door,
and then to rob me."

" Master Benvenuto, may I die — "

"Say but another word," cried Benvenuto, pointing
the arquebus toward his interlocutor, " and that wish of
thine will be gratified."

26 ASCANIO.

Pompeo fled at full speed, crying " Murder! " and
disappeared around the corner of the nearest street.

Benvenuto thereupon closed his window, hung his
arquebus on its nail, and went to bed once more, laugh
ing in his beard at poor Pompeo 's fright.

The next morning, as he went down to his shop,
which had been opened an hour earlier by his appren
tices, he spied Pompeo on the opposite side of the
street, where he had been doing sentry duty since day
break, waiting to see him descend.

As soon as he saw Cellini, Pompeo waved his hand to
him in the most affectionately friendly way imaginable.

"Aha!" said Cellini, "is it you, my dear Pompeo ?
By my faith! I was within an ace last night of making
a churl pay dearly for his insolence in assuming your
name."

"Indeed!" said Pompeo, forcing himself to smile,
and drawing gradually nearer to the shop ; " how did it
happen, pray ? "

Benvenuto thereupon described the incident to his
Holiness's messenger; but as his friend Benvenuto had
described him in their nocturnal interview as a coward,
Pompeo did not dare confess his identity with the
visitor. When his tale was finished, Cellini asked
Pompeo to what happy circumstance he was indebted
for the honor of so early a visit from him.

Pompeo thereupon acquitted himself, but in some
what different terms, be it understood, of the errand
upon which Clement VII. had sent him to his gold
smith. Benvenuto 's features expanded as he proceeded.
Clement VII. yielded; ergo the goldsmith had been
more obstinate than the Pope.

" Say to his Holiness," said Benvenuto, when the
message was duly delivered, " that I shall be very happy

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 27

to obey him, and to do anything in my power to regain
his favor, which I have lost, not by any fault of my
own, but through the evil machinations of envious
rivals. As for yourself, Signore Pompeo, as the Pope
does not lack retainers, I counsel you, in your own
interest, to look to it that another than you is sent to
me hereafter; for your health's sake, Signore Pompeo,
interfere no more in my affairs ; in pity for yourself,
never happen in my path, and for the welfare of my
soul, Pompeo, pray God that I be not your Caesar."

Pompeo waited to hear no more, but returned to
Clement VII. with Cellini's reply, of which, however,
he suppressed the peroration.

Some time thereafter, in order to put the seal to his
reconciliation with Benvenuto, Clement VII. ordered
his medallion struck by him. Benvenuto struck it in
bronze, in silver, and in gold, and ther* carried it to
him. The Pope was so enraptured with it that he cried
out in his admiration, that so beautiful a medallion had
never been produced by the ancients.

"Ah, well, your Holiness," said Benvenuto, "had
not I displayed some firmness, we should have been at
enmity to-day; for I would never have forgiven you,
and you would have lost a devoted servant. Look you,
Holy Father," he continued, by way of good counsel,
" your Holiness would not do ill to remember now and
then the opinion of many discreet folk, that one should
bleed seven times before cutting once, and you would
do well also to allow yourself to be something less
easily made the dupe of lying tongues and envious
detractors; so much for your guidance in future, and
we will say no more about it, Most Holy Father."

Thus did Benvenuto pardon Clement VII., which he
certainly would not have done had he loved him less;

28 ASCANIO.

but, as his compatriot, he was deeply attached to him.
Great, therefore, was his sorrow when the Pope suddenly
died, a few months subsequent to the episode we have
described. The man of iron burst into tears at the
news, and for a week he wept like a child. The Pon
tiff's demise was doubly calamitous to poor Cellini.
On the very day of his burial he met Pompeo, whom
he had not seen since the day when he bade him spare
him the too frequent infliction of his presence.

It should be said that since Cellini's dire threats, the
unhappy Pompeo had not dared to go out unless accom
panied by a dozen men, well armed, to whom he gave
the same pay that the Pope gave his Swiss Guards; so
that every walk that he took in the city cost him two
or three crowns. And even when surrounded by his
twelve sbirri, he trembled at the thought of meeting
Benvenuto Cellini, for he knew that if the meeting
should result in an affray, and any mishap should befall
the goldsmith, the Pope, who was really very fond of
him, would make him, Pompeo, pay dearly for it.
But, as we have said, Clement VII. was dead, and his
death restored some little courage to Pompeo.

Benvenuto had been to St. Peter's to kiss the feet of
the deceased Pontiff, and was returning through the
street Dei Banchi, accompanied by Pagolo and Ascanio,
when he found himself face to face with Pompeo and
his twelve men. At the sight of his enemy, Pompeo
became very pale; but as he looked around and saw how
amply provided he was with defenders, while Benvenuto
had only two boys with him, he took heart of grace,
halted, and nodded his head mockingly, while he toyed
with the hilt of his dagger with his right hand.

At sight of this group of men by whom his master
was threatened, Ascanio put his hand to his sword,

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 29

while Pagolo pretended to be looking in another direc
tion; but Benvenuto did not choose to expose his
beloved pupil to so unequal a conflict. He laid his
hand upon Ascanio's, pushing the half-drawn blade
back into the scabbard, and walked on as if he had seen
nothing, or as if he had taken no offence at what he
saw. Ascanio could hardly recognize his master in such
guise, but as his master withdrew, he withdrew with
him.

Pompeo triumphantly made a deep salutation to
Benvenuto, and pursued his way, still surrounded by
his sbirri, who imitated his bravado.

Benvenuto bit his lips till the blood came, while
externally his features wore a smile. His behavior was
inexplicable to any one who knew the irascible nature
of the illustrious goldsmith.

But they had not proceeded a hundred yards when
he stopped before the workshop of one of his confreres,
and went in, alleging as a pretext his desire to see an
antique vase which had recently been found in the
Etruscan tombs of Corneto. He bade his pupils go on
to the shop, and promised to join them there in a few
moments.

As the reader will understand, this was only a pretext
to get Ascanio out of the way, for as soon as he thought
that the young man and his companion, concerning
whom he was less anxious because he was sure that
such courage as he possessed would not carry him too
far, had turned the corner of the street, he replaced the
vase upon the shelf from which he took it, and darted
out of the shop.

With three strides Benvenuto was in the street where
he had met Pompeo; but Pompeo was no longer there.
Luckily, or rather unluckily, this man, encompassed

30 ASCANIO.

by his twelve sbirri, was a noticeable object, and so
when Benvenuto inquired as to the direction he had
taken, the first person to whom he applied was able to
give him the information, and like a bloodhound that
has recovered a lost scent Benvenuto started in pursuit.

Pompeo had stopped at a druggist's door, at the corner
of the Chiavica, and was vaunting to the worthy com-
pounder of drugs the prowess he had shown in his
meeting with Benvenuto Cellini, when his eye suddenly
fell upon the latter turning the corner of the street,
with fire in his eye, and the perspiration streaming
down his forehead.

Benvenuto shouted exultantly as he caught sight of
him, and Pompeo stopped short in the middle of his
sentence. It was evident that something terrible was
about to happen. The bravos formed a group around
Pompeo and drew their swords.

It was an insane performance for one man to attack
thirteen, but Benvenuto was, as we have said, one of
those leonine creatures who do not count their enemies.
Against the thirteen swords which threatened him, he
drew a small keen-edged dagger which he always wore
in his girdle, and rushed into the centre of the group,
sweeping aside two or three swords with one arm, over
turning two or three men with the other, until he made
his way to where Pompeo stood, and seized him by the
collar. But the group at once closed upon him.

Thereupon naught could be seen save a confused
struggling mass, whence issued loud shouts, and above
which swords were waving. For a moment the liv
ing mass rolled on the ground, in shapeless, inextri
cable confusion, then a man sprang to his feet with
a shout of triumph, and with a mighty effort, forced his
way out of the group as he made his way in, bleeding

A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 31

himself, but triumphantly waving his blood-stained
dagger. It was Benvenuto Cellini.

Another man remained upon the pavement, writhing
in the agony of death. He had received two blows
from the dagger, one below the ear, the other at the
base of the neck behind the collar bone. In a few
seconds he breathed his last, — it was Pompeo.

Any other than Benvenuto, after such a deed, would
have taken himself off at full speed, but he passed his
dagger to his left hand, drew his sword, and resolutely
awaited the sbirri.

But the sbirri had no further business with Benvenuto ;
he who paid them was dead, and consequently could pay
them no more. They ran off like a flock of frightened
rabbits, leaving Pompeo's body where it lay.

At that juncture Ascanio appeared, and rushed into
his master's arms; he was not deceived by the ruse of
the Etruscan vase, but although he had made all pos
sible speed he arrived a few seconds too late.

32 ASCANIO.

III.
D.EDALUS.

BENVENUTO returned to his abode with Ascanio, some
what ill at ease, not because of the three wounds he had
received, which were all too slight to occasion him any
anxiety, but because of the possible results of the
affray. Six months before, he had killed Guasconti,
his brother's murderer, but had come off scot free by
virtue of the protection of Pope Clement VII. ; more
over, that act was committed by way of reprisal, but
now Benvenuto's protector had gone the way of all
flesh, and the prospect was much more ominous.

Remorse, be it understood, did not disturb him for one
moment. But we beg our readers not for that reason to
form an unfavorable opinion of our worthy goldsmith,
who after killing a man, after killing two men perhaps,
— indeed, if we search his past very carefully, after kill
ing three men, — although he had a. wholesome dread
of the watch, did not for one instant fear to meet his
God.

For this man, in the year of grace 1540, was an
ordinary man, an every-day man, as the Germans say.
Men thought so little of dying in those days, that they
naturally came to think very little of killing; we are
brave to-day, but the men of those days were foolhardy ;
we are men grown, they were hot-headed youths. Life
was so abundant in those days that men lost it, gave

DAEDALUS. 33

it, sold it, nay, even took it, with absolute indifference
and recklessness.

There was once an author who was calumniated and
abused for many years, whose name was made a synonym
for treachery, cruelty, and all the words which mean
infamy, and it needed this nineteenth century, the most
impartial since the birth of humanity, to rehabilitate
that author as the grand patriot and noble-hearted man
he was. And yet Nicolo Machiavelli's only crime was
that he lived at an epoch when brute strength and
success were all in all ; when folk judged by deeds, not
words, and when such men as Cesar Borgia the sover
eign, Machiavelli the thinker, and Benvenuto Cellini
the artisan, marched straight to their goal, without
thought of methods or reasons.

One day a body was found in the public square of
Cesena, cut in four pieces; it was the body of Ramiro
d' Oreo. Now, as Ramiro d' Oreo was a considerable
personage in Italy, the Florentine Republic sought to
ascertain the causes of his death. The Eight of the
Signoria therefore wrote to Machiavelli, their ambas
sador at Cesena, to satisfy their curiosity.

But Machiavelli made no other reply than this : —

"MAGNIFICENT SIGNORIA: — I have naught to say anent
the death of Ramiro d' Oreo, save this : that no prince in the
world is so skilful as Cesar Borgia in the art of making and
unmaking men according to their deserts.

" MACHIAVELLI."

Benvenuto was an exponent of the theory enunciated
by the illustrious secretary of the Florentine Republic.
Benvenuto the genius, Cesar Borgia the prince, both
considered themselves above the laws by virtue of their
power. In their eyes the distinction between what was

VOL. I. — 3

34 ASCANIO.

just and what was unjust was identical with the dis
tinction between what they could and what they could
not do; of right and duty they had not the slightest
conception. A man stood in their path , they suppressed
the man. To-day civilization does him the honor of
purchasing him.

But in those old days the blood was boiling so abun
dantly in the veins of the young nations that they shed
it for their health's sake.

They fought by instinct, not for their country to any
great extent, not for women to any great extent, but
largely for the sake of fighting, nation against nation,
man against man. Benvenuto made war upon Fompeo
as Francois I. did upon Charles V. France and Spain
fought an intermittent duel, now at Marignano, and
again at Favia ; all as if it were the most natural thing
in the world, without preamble, without long harangues,
without lamentation.

In the same way genius was exercised by those who
possessed it as an innate faculty, as an absolute royal
power, based upon divine right: art in the sixteenth
century was looked upon as the natural birthright of
man.

We must not therefore wonder at these men who
wondered at nothing; we have, to explain their homi
cides, their whims, and their faults, an expression which
explains and justifies everything in our country, espe
cially in these days of ours : —

That was the fashion.

Benvenuto therefore did simply what it was the
fashion to do; Pompeo annoyed Benvenuto Cellini, and
Benvenuto suppressed Pompeo.

But the police occasionally investigated these acts of
suppression; they were very careful not to protect a

D.EDALUS. 35

man when he. was alive, but perhaps once in ten times
they showed a feeble desire to avenge him when he was
dead.

They experienced such a desire in the matter of
Pompeo and Benvenuto Cellini. As the goldsmith,
having returned to his shop, was putting certain papers
in the fire, and some money in his pocket, he was
arrested by the pontifical sbirri, and taken to the castle
of San Angelo, — an occurrence for which he was almost
consoled by the reflection that the castle of San Angelo
was where noblemen were imprisoned.

But another thought that was no less efficacious in
bringing consolation to Cellini as he entered the castle
was this, — that a man endowed with so inventive a
mind as his need not long delay about leaving it, in one
way or another. And so, when he was taken before
the governor, who was sitting at a table covered with a
green cloth, and looking through a great pile of papers,
he said : —

" Sir Governor, multiply your locks and bolts and
sentinels threefold ; confine me in your highest cell or
in your deepest dungeon ; keep close watch upon me all
day, and lie awake all night; and yet I warn you that,
despite all that, I will escape."

The governor looked up at the prisoner who addressed
him with such unheard of assurance, and recognized
Benvenuto Cellini, whom he had had the honor of
entertaining three months before.

Notwithstanding his acquaintance with the man, per
haps because of it, Benvenuto's allocution caused the
worthy governor the most profound dismay. He was
a Florentine, one Master Georgio, a knight of the
Ugolini, and an excellent man, but somewhat weak in
the head. However, he soon recovered from his first

36 ASCA.NIO.

surprise, and ordered Benvenuto to be taken to the
highest cell in the castle. The platform was immedi
ately above it; a sentinel was stationed on the platform,
and another sentinel at the foot of the wall.

The governor called the prisoner's attention to these
details, and when he thought that he had had time to
digest them, he said : —

"My dear Benvenuto, one may open locks, force
doors, dig out from an underground dungeon, make a
hole through a wall, bribe sentinels and put jailers to
sleep; but without wings one cannot descend to earth
from this height."

" I will do it, nevertheless," said Cellini.

The governor looked him in the eye, and began to
think that his prisoner was mad.

" Why, in that case, you propose to fly ? "

"Why not? I have always believed that man can
fly, but I have lacked time to make the experiment.
Here I shall have time enough, and, pardieu ! I mean
to solve the problem. The adventure of Daedalus is
history, not fable."

"Beware the sun, dear Benvenuto," sneeringly re
plied the governor; " beware the sun "

" I will fly away by night," said Benvenuto.

The governor was not expecting that reply, so that
he had no suitable repartee at hand, and withdrew in a
rage.

In good sooth it was most important that Benvenuto
should make bis escape, at any price. At another time
he would not have been at all perturbed because he had
killed a man, and would have been quit of all responsi
bility by following the procession of the Virgin in
August, clad in a doublet and cloak of blue armoisin.
But the new Pope, Paul III., was vindictive to the

D.EDALUS. 37

last degree, and when he was still Monsignore Farnese,
Benvenuto had had a crow to pluck with him, apropos
of a vase which the goldsmith refused to deliver until
paid for, and which his Eminence sought to procure by
force, the result being to subject Benvenuto to the dire
necessity of using his Eminence's retainers somewhat
roughly. Moreover, the Holy Father was jealous be
cause King Francois I. had commanded Monseigneur de
Montluc, his ambassador to the Holy See, to request that
Benvenuto be sent to France. When he was informed
of Benvenuto's imprisonment, Monseigneur de Montluc
urged the request more strenuously than before, think
ing thereby to render the unfortunate prisoner a service;
but he was entirely unfamiliar with the character of the
new Pope, who was even more obstinate than his pre
decessor, Clement VII. Now Paul III. had sworn
that Benvenuto should pay dearly for his escapade, and
if he was not precisely in danger of death, — a pope
would have thought twice in those days before ordering
such an artist to the gallows, — he was in great danger
of being forgotten in his prison. It was therefore of
the utmost importance that Benvenuto should not forget
himself, and that was why he was determined to take
flight without awaiting the interrogatories and judg
ment, which might never have arrived; for the Pope,
angered by the intervention of Francois I., refused even
to hear Benvenuto Cellini's name mentioned. The
prisoner knew all this from Ascanio. who was manag
ing his establishment, and who, by dint of persistent
entreaties, had obtained permission to visit his master.
Their interviews, of course, were held through two iron
gratings, and in presence of witnesses watching to see
that the pupil passed neither file, nor rope, nor knife
to his master.

38 ASCANIO.

As soon as the door of bis cell was locked behind
the governor, Benvenuto set about inspecting his
surroundings.

The following articles were contained within the four
walls of his new abiding place : a bed, a fireplace, a
table, and two chairs. Two days after his installation
there, he obtained a supply of clay and a modelling tool.
The governor at first declined to allow him to have
these means of distraction, but he changed his mind
upon reflecting that, if the artist's mind were thus
employed, he might perhaps abandon the idea of es
cape, to which he clung so tenaciously. The same day,
Benvenuto sketched a colossal Venus.

All this of itself was no great matter; but in con
junction with imagination, patience, and energy, it was
much.

On a certain very cold day in December, when the
fire was lighted on the hearth, the servant changed the
sheets on his bed and left the soiled ones upon a chair.
As soon as the door was closed, Benvenuto made one
bound from the chair on which he was sitting to the
bed, took out of the mattress two enormous handfuls of
the maize leaves which are used to stuff mattresses in
Italy, stowed the sheets away in their place, returned to
his statue, took up his tool and resumed his work. At
that moment the servant returned for the forgotten
sheets, and after looking everywhere for them, asked
Benvenuto if he had not seen them. But he replied
carelessly, as if absorbed by his work, that some of his
fellows doubtless had taken them, or that he carried
them away himself without knowing it. The servant
had no suspicion of the truth, so little time had elapsed
since he left the room, and Benvenuto played his part
so naturally; and as the sheets were never found, he

D.EDALUS. 39

was very careful to say nothing, for fear of being obliged
to pay for them or of losing his employment.

One who has never lived through some supreme crisis
can form no idea of the possibilities of such a time in
the way of terrible catastrophes and poignant anguish.
The most trivial accidents of life arouse in us joy or
despair. As soon as the servant left the room, Ben-
venuto fell upon his knees, and thanked God for the
help He had sent him.

As his bed was never touched until the next morning
after it was once made, he quietly left the sheets in the
mattress.

When the night came he began to cut the sheets,
which luckily were new and strong, in strips three or
four inches wide, then tied them together as securely as
he could; lastly, he cut open his statue, which was of
clay, hollowed it out, placed his treasure in the cavity,
then spread clay over the wound, and smoothed it off
with his finger and his, modelling tool, until the most
skilful artist could not have discovered that poor Venus
had been made to undergo the Caesarean operation.

The next morning the governor entered the prisoner's
cell unexpectedly, as he was accustomed to do, but
found him as usual calm and hard at work. Every
morning the poor man, who had been specially threat
ened for the night, trembled lest he should find the cell
empty; and it should be said, in justice to his frank
ness, that he did not conceal his joy every morning when
he found it occupied.

" I confess that you make me terribly anxious,
Benvenuto," said the poor man; "however, I begin to
think that your threats of escape amount to nothing. "

"I. don't threaten you, Master Georgio, " rejoined
Benvenuto, "I warn you."

40 ASCANIO.

" Do you still hope to fly away 1 "

"Luckily it isn't a mere hope, but downright cer
tainty, pardieu!"

"Demonio! how will you do it?" cried the poor
governor, dismayed beyond measure by Benvenuto's
real or pretended confidence in his means of escape.

" That 's my secret, master. But I give you fair
warning that my wings are growing."

The governor instinctively turned his eye upon the
prisoner's shoulders.

" 'Tis thus," continued Benvenuto, working away at
his statue, and rounding the hips in such fashion that
one would have thought he proposed to rival the Venus
Callipyge. "Betwixt us there is a duel impending.
You have on your side enormous towers, thick doors,
strong bolts, innumerable keepers always on the alert;
I have on my side my brain, and these poor hands, and
I warn you very frankly that you will be beaten. But
as you are a very clever man, as you have taken every
possible precaution, you will at least, when I am gone,
have the consolation of knowing that it is through no
fault of yours, Master Georgio, that you have no occa
sion to reproach yourself at all, Master Georgio, and
that you neglected nothing that could help you to detain
me, Master Georgio. And now what say you to this
hip, for you are a lover of art, I know."

Such unblushing assurance enraged the unhappy offi
cial. His prisoner had become his fixed idea, upon
which all his faculties were centred. He grew melan
choly, lost his appetite, and started constantly, like one
suddenly aroused from sleep. One night Benvenuto
heard a great noise upon the platform; then it was
transferred to his corridor, and finally stopped at his
door. The door opened, and he saw Master Georgio,

DAEDALUS. 41

in dressing-gown and nightcap, attended by four jailers
and eight guards. The governor rushed to his bedside
with distorted features. Benvenuto sat up in bed and
laughed in his face. The governor, without taking
offence at his hilarity, breathed like a diver returning
to the surface.

" Ah ! God be praised ! " he cried ; " he is still here !
There 's much good sense in the saying, Songe — men-
songe " (Dream — lie).

"In God's name, what's the matter1?" demanded
Benvenuto, " and what happy circumstance affords me
the pleasure of a visit from you at such an hour, Master
Georgio 1 "

"Jesus Dieu ! it 's nothing at all, and I am quit of
it this time for the fright. Did I .not dream that your
accursed wings had grown, — huge wings, whereon you
tranquilly hovered above the castle of San Angelo,
saying, ' Adieu, my dear governor, adieu ! I did not
wish to go away without taking leave of you. I go;
I pray that I may be so blessed as never to see you
more. ' '

" What! did I say that to you, Master Georgio? "

" Those were your very words. Ah, Benvenuto, you
are a sorry guest for me ! "

" Oh ! I trust that you do not deem me so ill-bred as
that. Happily it was but a dream; for otherwise I
would not forgive you."

" Happily it is not true. I hold you fast, my dear
friend, and although truth compels me to say that your
society is not of the most agreeable to me, I hope to
hold you for a long time yet to come."

"I do not think it," retorted Benvenuto, with the
confident smile which caused his host to- use strong
language.

42 ASCANIO.

The governor went out, cursing Benvenuto roundly,
and the next morning he issued orders that his cell
should be inspected every two hours, night and day.
This rigid inspection was continued for a month; but
at the end of that time, as there was no apparent reason
to believe that Benvenuto was even thinking of escape,
the vigilance of his keepers was somewhat relaxed.

Beuvenuto, however, had employed the month in
accomplishing a terrible task.

As we have said, he minutely examined his cell
immediately after he was first consigned to it, and from
that moment his mind was made up as to the manner
of his escape. His window was barred, and the bars
were too strong to be removed with the hand or with
his modelling tool, the only iron instrument he pos
sessed. The chimney narrowed so toward the top that
the prisoner must needs have had the fairy Melusine's
power of transforming herself into a serpent to pass
through it.

The door remained. Ah, the door! Let us see how
the door was made.

It was a heavy oaken door two fingers thick, secured
by two locks and four bolts, and sheathed on the inside
with iron plates kept in place by nails at the top and
bottom. It was through that door that the escape must
be effected.

Benvenuto had noticed in the corridor, a few steps
from the door, the stairway leading to the platform.
At intervals of two hours he heard the footsteps of the
relieving sentinel going up, then the steps of the other
coming down; after which he would hear nothing more
for another two hours.

The question for him to solve, then, was simply this:
how to reach the other side of that door, which was

DAEDALUS. 43

secured by two locks and four bolts, and furthermore
sheathed on the inside with iron plates kept in place
by nails at the top and bottom. The solution of this
problem was the task to which Benvenuto had devoted
the month in question.

With his modelling tool, which was of iron, he re
moved, one by one, the heads of all the nails, save four
above and four below, which he left until the last day:
then, in order that his work might not be detected, he
replaced the missing heads with exactly similar ones,
modelled in clay and covered with iron filings, so that
it was impossible for the keenest eye to distinguish the
false from the true. As there were, at top and bottom
together, some sixty nails, and as it took at least one
hour, and sometimes two, to decapitate each nail, the
magnitude of the task may be understood.

Every evening, when everybody had retired, and
nothing could be heard save the footsteps of the sentinel
walking back and forth over his head, he built a great
fire on the hearth, and piled glowing embers against the
iron plates on his door; the iron became red hot, and
gradually transformed to charcoal the wood upon which
it was applied; but no indication of the carbonizing
process appeared on the other side of the door.

For a whole month Benvenuto devoted himself to
this task, as we have said; but at the end of the month
it was finished, and he only awaited a favorable oppor
tunity to make his escape. He was compelled, how
ever, to wait a few days, for the moon was near the full
when the work was done.

There was nothing more to be done to the nails, so
Benvenuto continued to char the door, and drive the
governor to desperation. That very day the functionary
entered his cell more preoccupied than ever.

44 ASCANIO.

"My dear prisoner," said the worthy man, whose
mind constantly recurred to his fixed idea, " do you still
propose to fly away? Come, tell me frankly."

" More than ever, my dear host," replied Benvenuto.

"Look you," said the governor, "you may say
what you choose, but upon my word, I believe it 's
impossible."

"Impossible, Master Georgio, impossible!" rejoined
the artist; "why, you know full well that that word
does not exist for me, who have always exerted myself
to do those things which are the most impossible for
other men, and that with success. Impossible, my dear
host! Why, have I not sometimes amused myself by
making nature jealous, by fashioning with gold and
emeralds and diamonds a flower fairer far than all the
flowers that the dew empearls ? Think you that he who
can make flowers can not make wings? "

" May God help me! " said the governor; " with your
insolent assurance you '11 make me lose my wits! But
tell me, in order that these wings may sustain your
weight in the air, — a thing which seems impossible to
me, I confess, — what form shall you give them? "

" I have thought deeply thereupon, as you may well
imagine, since my safety depends entirely upon the
shape of my wings."

"With what result?"

" After examining all flying things, I have concluded
that, if I wish to reproduce by art what they have
received from God, I can copy the bat most success
fully."

"But when all is said, Benvenuto," continued the
governor, " even if you had the materials with which to
make a pair of wings, would not your courage fail you
when the time came to use them ? "

DAEDALUS. 45

* Give me what I need for their construction, my dear
governor, and 1 '11 reply by flying away."

" What do you need, in God's name? "

"Oh! mon Dieu ! almost nothing; a little forge, an
anvil, files, tongs and pincers to make the springs, and
twenty yards of oiled silk for the membranes.

" Good ! very good ! " said Master Georgio ; " that
reasstires me somewhat, for, clever as you may be, you
never will succeed in obtaining all those things here."

" 'T is done," rejoined Benvenuto.

The governor leaped from his chair; but he instantly
reflected that it was a material impossibility. And yet,
for all that, his poor brain had not a moment's respite.
Every bird that flew by his window he imagined to be
Benvenuto Cellini, so great is the influence of a master
mind over one of moderate capacity.

The same day Master Georgio sent for the most skil
ful machinist in all Rome, and ordered him to measure
him for a pair of bat's wings.

The machinist stared at the governor in blank amaze
ment, without replying, thinking, with some reason,
that Master Georgio had gone mad.

But as Master Georgio insisted, as Master Georgio was
wealthy, and as Master Georgio had the wherewithal to
pay for insane freaks, if he chose to indulge in them,
the machinist set about the task, and a week later
brought him a pair of magnificent wings, fitted to an
iron waist to be worn upon the body, and worked by
means of an extremely ingenious arrangement of springs,
with most encouraging regularity.

Master Georgio paid his man the stipulated price,
measured the space required to accommodate the appa
ratus, went up to Benvenuto's cell, and without a word
overturned everything therein, looking under the bed,

46 ASCANIO.

peering up the chimney, fumbling in the mattress, and
leaving not the smallest corner unvisited.

Then he went out, still without speaking, convinced
that, unless Benvenuto was a sorcerer, no pair of wings
similar to his own could be hidden in his cell.

It was clear that the unhappy governor's brain was
becoming more and more disordered.

Upon descending to his own quarters, Master Georgio
found the machinist waiting for him; he had returned
to call his attention to the fact that there was an iron
ring at the end of each wing, intended to support the
legs of a man flying in a horizontal position.

The machinist had no sooner left him than Master
Georgio locked himself in, donned the iron waist,
unfolded his wings, hung up his legs, and, lying flat
upon his stomach, made his first attempt at flying.

But, try as he would, he could not succeed in rising
above the floor.

After two or three trials, always with the same result,
he sent for the mechanic once more.

"Master," said he, "I have tried your wings, but
they won't work."

" How did you try them 1 "

Master Georgio described his repeated experiments in
detail. The mechanic listened with a sober face, and
said, when he had concluded: —

" I am not surprised ; as you lay on the floor, you
had n't a sufficient quantity of air under your wings.
You must go to the top of the castle of San Angelo , and
boldly launch yourself into space."

" And you think that in that way I can fly ? "

" I am sure of it. "

" If you are so sure of it, would it not be as well to
make the experiment yourself 'I "

DAEDALUS. 47

" The wings are proportioned to the weight of your
body and not of mine," replied the machinist. " Wings
to carry my weight would need to measure a foot and a
half more from tip to tip."

And with that he bowed and took his leave.

" The devil ! " exclaimed Master Georgio.

Throughout that day Master Georgio indulged in
various vagaries, which tended to prove that his reason,
like Eoland's, was penetrating farther and farther into
imaginary realms.

In the evening, just at bedtime, he summoned all the
servants, all the jailers, all the guards.

"If," said he, "you learn that Benvenuto Cellini is
intending to fly away, let him go, and notify me, noth
ing more ; for I shall know where to go to capture him,
even in the dark, since I am myself a veritable bat,
while he, whatever he may say, is only a false bat."

The poor governor was quite mad ; but as they hoped
that a night's rest would have a soothing effect upon
him, they decided to wait until morning before advising
the Pope.

Moreover it was an abominable night, dark and rainy,
and no one cared to go out in such weather; always
excepting Benvenuto Cellini, who had selected that
very night for his escape, in a spirit of contrariety
doubtless.

And so, as soon as he heard the clock strike ten, and
the footsteps indicating that the sentinel had been re
lieved, he fell on his knees and offered a fervent prayer,
after which he set to work.

In the first place he removed the heads of the four
nails, which alone held the iron plates in place. The
last yielded to his efforts just at midnight.

He heard the steps of the sentinel going up to the

48 ASCANIO.

platform; he stood with his ear glued to the door, with
out breathing, until the relieved sentinel came down,
the steps died away in the distance, and silence reigned
once more.

The rain fell with redoubled force, and Benvenuto's
heart leaped for joy as he heard it beating against the
window.

He at once tried to remove the iron plates ; as there
was nothing to hold them, they yielded to his efforts,
and he placed them, one by one, against the wall.

He then lay flat upon the floor, and attacked the
bottom of the door with his modelling tool, sharpened
like a dagger, and fitted to a wooden handle. The oak
was entirely changed to carbon, and gave way at the
first touch.

In an instant Benvenuto had made an aperture at the
bottom of the door sufficiently large to allow him to
crawl through it. He reopened the belly of his statue,
took out the strips of linen, coiled them around his
waist like a girdle, armed himself with his modelling-
tool, of which he had, as we have said, made a dagger,
and fell on his knees once more and prayed.

Then he passed his head through the hole, then his
shoulders, then the rest of his body, and found himself
in the corridor.

He stood erect; but his legs trembled so that he was
compelled to lean against the wall for support. His
heart was beating as if it would burst, and his head was
on fire. A drop of perspiration trembled at the end of
each hair, and he clutched the handle of his dagger in
his hand, as if some one were trying to tear it away
from him.

However, as everything was quiet, as nothing was
stirring and not a sound was to be heard, Benvenuto

D.EDALUS. 49

soon recovered himself, and felt his way along the wall
of the corridor with his hand, until the wall came to an
end. Then he put out his foot and felt the first step of
the staircase, or, more properly speaking, the ladder,
which led to the platform.

He mounted the rungs, one by one, shivering as the
wood creaked under his feet, until he felt a breath of
air; then the rain beat against his face as his head rose
above the level of the platform, and as he had been in
most intense darkness for a quarter of an hour, he was
able to judge at once what reason he had to fear or
hope.

The balance seemed to incline toward hope.

The sentinel had taken refuge from the storm in his
sentry-box. Now, as the sentinels who mounted guard
upon the castle of San Angelo were stationed there, not
to inspect the platform, but to look down into the moat
and survey the surrounding country, the closed side of
the sentry-box faced the top of the ladder by which
Benvenuto ascended.

The artist crept cautiously on his hands and knees
toward that part of the platform which was farthest
removed from the sentry-box. There he securely
fastened one end of his improvised rope to a jutting
projection some six inches in length, and then knelt
for the third time.

"0 Lord!" he muttered, "0 Lord! do Thou help
me, since I am seeking to help myself."

With that prayer upon his lips, he let himself down
by his hands, heedless of the bruises upon his knees and
his forehead, which, from time to time, rubbed against
the face of the wall, and at last reached the solid
earth.

When he felt the ground beneath his feet, his breast
VOL. i. — 4

50 ASCANIO.

swelled with an infinitude of joy and pride. He con
templated the immense height from which he had
descended, and could not avoid saying in an undertone,
" Free at last! " But his joy was short-lived.

As he turned away from the tower, his knees trembled
under him; directly in front of him rose a wall recently
built, and of which he knew nothing; he was lost.

Everything seemed to give way within him, and in
his despair he fell to the ground; but as he fell, his
foot struck against something hard, — it was a long
beam; he gave a slight exclamation of surprise and
delight; he was saved.

Ah! no one knows what heart-rending alternations of
joy and hope one short minute of life can contain.

Benvenuto seized the beam as a shipwrecked sailor
seizes the spar which may save him from drowning.
Under ordinary circumstances two strong men would
have found difficulty in lifting it; he dragged it to the
wall, and stood it on end against it. Then he climbed
to the top of the wall, clinging to the beam with his
hands and knees, but when he arrived there his strength
was insufficient to raise the beam and lower it on the
other side.

For a moment his head swam; he closed his eyes, and
it seemed as if he were struggling in a lake of flames.

Suddenly he remembered his strips of linen, by means
of which he had descended from the platform.

He slid down the beam to the ground once more, and
ran to the spot where he had left them hanging; but he
had fastened them so securely at the opposite end, that
he could not detach them. In his desperation he raised
himself from the ground by hanging to them, pulling
with all his strength, and hoping to break them. For
tunately one of the knots slipped at last, and Benvenuto

ILEDALUS. 51

fell to the ground, grasping a fragment some twelve feet
long.

This was all that he needed; he rose with a bound,
and, filled with fresh vigor, climbed up to the top of
the wall once more, fastened the cord to the end of the
beam, and slid down on the other side.

When he reached the end of the cord he felt in vain
for the ground with his feet, and, upon looking over his
shoulder, saw that it was still some six feet away. He
let go the cord, and dropped.

He lay still for an instant; he was completely ex
hausted, and there was no skin left tipon his legs and
hands. For some moments he gazed stupidly at his
bleeding flesh; but five o'clock struck, and he saw that
the stars were beginning to pale.

He rose ; but as he rose, a sentinel whom he had not
noticed, but who had undoubtedly witnessed his per
formance, walked toward him. Benvenuto saw that he
was lost, and that he must either kill or be killed.
He drew his modelling tool from his belt, and marched
straight toward the guard, with such a determined ex
pression that that worthy doubtless realized that he
had not only a powerful man, but a deathly despair, to
contend with. Benvenuto was determined not to give
ground, but suddenly the soldier turned his back upon
him as if he had not seen him. The prisoner under
stood what that meant.

He ran to the last rampart, and found himself some
twelve or fifteen feet above the moat. Such a trifle was
not likely to stop a man like Benvenuto Cellini, in his
present predicament, when he had left part of his cord
hanging from the top of the tower, and the other part
attached to the beam, so that he had nothing left with
which to lower himself, and there was no time to lose.

52 ASCANIO.

He hung by his hands from a ring in the masonry, and,
•with a mental prayer, let himself drop.

This time he fainted outright.

An hour passed before he came to himself; but the
coolness which is always noticeable in the air as dawn
approaches, revived him. He lay for an instant with
his mind in confusion, then passed his hand over his
forehead and remembered everything.

He felt a sharp pain in his head, and saw blood upon
the stones where he lay, which had trickled down from
his face. He put his hand to his forehead a second
time, not to collect his thoughts, but to investigate his
wounds, which he found were but skin deep. He
smiled and tried to stand up, but fell heavily back;
his right leg was broken three inches above the ankle.
The leg was so benumbed that at first he felt no pain.

He at once removed his shirt and tore it into strips,
then put the ends of the bone together as well as he
could, and applied the bandage, binding it with all his
strength, and passing it under the sole of his foot now
and then, in order to keep the bones in place.

Then he dragged himself on all fours toward one of
the city gates which was within five hundred yards.
After half an hour of atrocious suffering, he reached the
gate only to find that it was closed. But he noticed a
large stone under the gate, which yielded to his first
attempt to remove it, and he passed through the hole
left by it.

He had not taken twenty steps beyond the gate when
he was attacked by a pack of famished dogs, who were
attracted by the odor of blood. He drew his modelling
tool, and despatched the largest and most savage with a
blow in the side. The others immediately threw them
selves upon their defunct comrade and devoured him.

D^DALUS. 53

Benvenuto dragged himself along to the church of La
Transpontina, -where he fell in with a water-carrier who
had just filled his jars and loaded his donkey. He
called him.

"Look you," he said; "I was with my mistress;
circumstances compelled me, although I went in at the
door, to come out through the window. I leaped from
the first floor, and broke my leg; carry me to the steps
of Saint Peter's, and I will give you a golden crown.

The water-carrier, without a word, took the wounded
man on his shoulder, and carried him to the designated
spot. Having received his pay, he went his way with
out so much as looking behind.

Thereupon Benvenuto, still on all fours, made his
way to the palace of Monseigneur de Montluc, the French
Ambassador, who lived only a few steps away.

Monseigneur de Montluc exerted himself so zealously
in his behalf, that at the end of a month Benvenuto was
cured, at the end of two months he was pardoned, and
at the end of four months he started for France with
Ascanio and Pagolo.

The poor governor, who had gone mad, lived and
died a madman, constantly imagining that he was a bat,
and making the most violent efforts to fly.

54 ASCANIO.

IV.

SCOZZONE.

WHEN Benvenuto Cellini arrived in France, Francois I.
was at the chateau of Fontainebleau with his whole
court. The artist stopped in the town, sending word
of his arrival to the Cardinal of Ferrara. The cardinal,
who knew that the king was impatiently awaiting his
coming, at once transmitted the intelligence to his
Majesty. Benvenuto was received by the king the
same day.

" Benvenuto, " he said, addressing him in that mel
lifluous and expressive tongue in which the artist wrote
so well, " for a few days, while you are recovering from
your fatigue and vexation, repose, enjoy yourself, make
merry, and meanwhile we will reflect and determine
upon some noble work for you to execute."

Thereupon he ordered apartments in the chateau to
be made ready for the artist, and that he should want
for nothing.

Thus Benvenuto found himself at the outset installed
in the very centre of French civilization, at that time
behind that of Italy, with which it was already strug
gling for supremacy, and which it was soon to surpass.
As he looked around, he could easily believe that he
had never left the Tuscan capital, for he found himself
in the midst of the arts and artists he had known at
Florence ; Primaticcio had succeeded Leonardo da Vinci
and Rosso.

SCOZZONE. 55

It was for Benvenuto, therefore, to show himself not
unworthy of these illustrious predecessors, and to carry
the art of statuary as high in the eyes of the most gallant
court of Europe as those three great masters had carried
the art of painting. And so Benvenuto determined to
anticipate the king's wishes by not waiting for him to
command the nohle work promised, and to execute it
himself, of his own motion, and with his own resources.
He had readily discovered the king's affection for the
royal residence where he had met him, and determined
to flatter his preference by executing a statue to be
called the "Nymph of Fontaine bleau."

A lovely work to undertake was this statue, crowned
at once with oak and wheat-ears and vines ; for Fon-
tainebleau is partly field, partly forest, and partly vine
yard. The nymph of whom Benvenuto dreamed must
therefore be reminiscent of Ceres and Diana and Erigone,
— three types of marvellous beauty melted into one, and
which, while retaining their distinctive characteristics,
should still form but a single whole. Then there should
be represented upon the pedestal the attributes of those
three goddesses; and they who have seen the fascinating
figures about the statue of Perseus know the Florentine
master's method of executing those mavellous details.

But it was his misfortune that, although he had in
his own mind his ideal of beauty, he was sadly in need
of a human model for the material part of his work.
Where was he to find this model, in whose single
person could be found the threefold beauty of three
goddesses ?

Certain it is, that if, as in the olden days, the days
of Apelles and Phidias, the beauties of the day, those
queens of loveliness, had come of their own accord to
pose for Benvenuto, he would have found what he

56 ASCANIO.

sought within the precincts of the court; for there was
a whole Olympus in the flower of youth and beauty.
There were Catherine de Medicis, then but one. and
twenty; Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre, who
was called the Fourth Grace and the Tenth Muse ; and
lastly, Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes, whom we shall
meet frequently in the course of this narrative, and who
was known as the loveliest of blue-stockings and the
most learned of beauties. In this galaxy the artist
could have found more than he needed; but the days
of Apelles and Phidias had long gone by, and he must
look elsewhere.

It was with great pleasure, therefore, that he learned
that the court was about to set out for Paris. Unfor
tunately, as Benvenuto himself says, the court in those
days travelled like a funeral procession. Preceded by
twelve to fifteen thousand horse, halting for the night
in some place where there were no more than two or
three houses, wasting four hours every evening in pitch
ing the tents, and four hours every morning in striking
them, — in this way, although the distance was but
sixteen leagues, five days were spent in the journey
from Fontainebleau to Paris.

Twenty times on the way Benvenuto was tempted to
push forward, but as often the Cardinal of Ferrara dis
suaded him, saying that, if the king was compelled to
pass a single day without seeing him, he would certainly
ask what had become of him, and when he learned that
he had left the procession would look upon his uncere
monious departure as a failure of respect toward him
self. So Benvenuto chafed at his bit, and tried to kill
time during the long halt by sketching his nymph of
Fontainebleau.

At last he arrived at Paris. His first visit was to

SCOZZONE. 57

Primaticcio, who was commissioned to continue the
work of Leonardo da Vinci and Rosso at Fontainebleau.
Primaticcio, who had lived long at Paris, should be
able at once to put him upon the path he was seeking,
and to tell him where to look for models.

A word, in passing, as to Primaticcio.

II Signer Francesco Primaticcio, who was commonly
called at this time Le Bologna, from his birthplace,
had studied under Jules Romain for six years, and had
lived eight years in France, whither Francois I. had
summoned him upon the advice of the Marquis of
Mantua, his great purveyor of artists. He was, as
any one may see at Fontainebleau, a man of prodigious
fecundity, with a broad, florid manner, and irreproach
able regularity of outline. For a long time Primaticcio,
with his encyclopedic brain, his vast store of knowledge,
and his boundless talent, which embraced all varieties
of painting, — for a long time, we say, he was despised,
but in our day he has been avenged for three centuries
of injustice. Under the inspiration of religious ardor,
he painted the pictures in the chapel of Beauregard; in
moral subjects he personified the principal Christian
virtues at the Hotel Montmorency ; and the immensity
of Fontainebleau was filled to overflowing with his
works. At the Golden Gate and in the Salle du Bal
he treated the most graceful subjects of mythology and
allegory; in the Gallery of Ulysses and the Chamber
of Saint Louis he was an epic poet with Homer, and
translated with his brush the Odyssey and a portion of
the Iliad. Then he passed from the Age of Fable to
heroic times, and historical subjects became his study.
The principal incidents in the life of Alexander and
Romulus, and the surrender of Havre, were reproduced
in the painting with which he decorated the Grand

58 ASCANIO.

Gallery and the apartment adjoining the Salle du Bal.
He turned his attention to the beauties of nature in the
great landscapes of the Cabinet of Curiosities. In short,
if we care to take the measurement of his eminent
talent, to consider the various forms in which it found
expression, and to reckon up its work, we shall find
that in ninety-eight large pictures and a hundred and
thirty smaller ones he has treated, one after another,
landscapes, marine views, historical, allegorical, and
religious subjects, portraits, and the themes of epic
poetry.

He was, as may be seen, a man likely to appreciate
Benvenuto; and so, as soon as Benvenuto arrived at
Paris, he ran to Primaticcio with open arms, and was
welcomed by him in the same temper.

After the first serious conversation between the two
friends meeting thus in a foreign land, Benvenuto
opened his portfolio, imparted all his ideas to Prima
ticcio, showed him all his sketches, and asked him if
there was any one of the models he was accustomed to
use who fulfilled the necessary conditions.

Primaticcio shook his head, smiling sadly. In truth,
they were no longer in Italy, the daughter of Greece
and rival of her mother. France was in those days, as
it is to-day, the land of grace, and prettiness, and
coquetry ; but in vain would one have sought in the
domain of the Valois that imperious loveliness which
inspired the genius of Michel-Angelo and Raphael, of
John of Bologna and Andrea del Sarto, on the banks of
the Tiber and the Arno. To be sure, if the painter or
sculptor had been at liberty to choose a model at will
among the aristocracy, he would soon have found the
types he sought; but like those shades which are de
tained on this side of the Styx, he was perforce content

SCOZZONE. 59

to see those noble, lovely forms, the constant objects
of his artistic aspirations, pass over into the Elysian
Fields which he was forbidden to enter.

It turned out as Primaticcio anticipated : Benvenuto
passed in review his whole army of models, and saw not
one who seemed to combine all the qualities essential
for the work of which he was dreaming.

Thereupon he caused all the Venuses at a crown the
sitting whose names were furnished him to be summoned
to the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace, where he was in
stalled, but none of them fulfilled his expectations.

Benvenuto was almost at his wit's end when, one
evening, as he was returning home alone along Rue
des Petits-Champs, after supping with three compatriots
whom he had met at Paris, — namely, Pietro Strozzi,
the Count of Anguillara, his brother in law, and Galeotto
Pico, nephew of the famous Pico della Mirandole, — he
noticed a graceful, lovely girl walking in front of him.
Benvenuto fairly leaped for joy: the girl was, of all
whom he had thus far seen, by far the best qualified to
give shape to his dream. He followed her, therefore.
She walked along by the church of Saint-Honore, and
turned into Eue du Pelican; there she looked around
to see if she was still followed, and, seeing Benvenuto
within a few steps, hastily opened a door and dis
appeared. Benvenuto went to the same door and opened
it in time to see the skirt of the young woman's dress
disappear at a bend in the stairway, which was lighted
by a smoking lamp.

He went up to the first floor: a chamber door stood
ajar, and in the chamber he discovered the girl he had
followed.

Without explaining the artistic motive of his in
trusion, indeed, without saying a word, Benvenuto,

60 ASCANIO.

desirous to ascertain whether the outlines of her body
corresponded with those of her face, walked around and
around the poor, bewildered girl, as he might have done
had she been a statue, taking her arms and raising them
above her head in the attitude which he proposed that
his Nymph of Fontainebleau should assume; and she
obeyed his gestures mechanically.

There was little of Ceres in the model now before his
eyes, and still less of Diana, but very much of Erigone.
The master thereupon made up his mind, in view of
the manifest impossibility of finding the three types
united in one person, to be satisfied with the Bacchante.
But for the Bacchante he had certainly found all that
he desired, — sparkling eyes, coral lips, teeth like
pearls, graceful neck, well rounded shoulders, and broad
hips; and in the slender wrists and ankles, and the
long nails, there was a suggestion of aristocratic blood,
which removed the artist's last hesitation.

"What is your name, mademoiselle1!" Benvenuto,
with his foreign accent, at last asked the poor girl,
whose wonder momentarily increased.

" Catherine, monsieur, at your service," she replied.

u Very good! Here is a golden crown, Mademoiselle
Catherine, for the trouble T have caused you. Come to
me to-morrow at the Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel on Kue
Saint-Martin, and I will give you as much more for the
same service."

The girl hesitated an instant, thinking that he was
making sport of her. But the gold crown seemed to
prove that he was speaking seriously, and after a very
brief pause, she said, —

" At what time ? "

"Ten o'clock in the morning: does that suit your
convenience ? "

SCOZZONE. 61

"Perfectly."

" So that I may rely upon you ? "

"I will come."

Benvenuto saluted her as he would have saluted a
duchess, and returned home with a glad heart. He at
once burned all his idealistic sketches, and set to work
upon one based upon flesh and blood. Having com
pleted the drawing, he placed a quantity of wax upon a
pedestal, and beneath his dexterous touch it instantly
assumed the shape of the nymph of whom he had
dreamed; so that when Catherine appeared at the door
of his studio the next morning, a part of his task was
already done.

As we have said, Catherine utterly failed to under
stand Benvenuto's motives. She was vastly astonished,
therefore, when, having closed the door behind her, he
showed her the statue already begun, and explained
why he had asked her to come.

Catherine was a light-hearted, joyous creature, and
laughed heartily at her mistake; her bosom swelled
with pride at the thought of posing as a model for a
goddess to be presented to a king, so she removed her
clothing, and of her own motion assumed the pose indi
cated by the statue, — so gracefully, and withal so
exactly, that the artist, when he turned and saw her
posed so naturally and well, exclaimed in delight.

Benvenuto at once set to work: his was, as we have
said, one of those noble, vigorous, artistic natures in
which inspiration is aroused by the work beneath their
hands, and which seem to become illumined as their
work proceeds. He had thrown aside his doublet, and as
he went back and forth from the model to the copy, from
nature to art, he seemed, with his bare neck and arms,
like Jupiter, ready to kindle everything that he touched

62 ASCANIO.

into flame. Catherine, accustomed to the common
place or worn out organization of the young men of the
lower classes with whom she had associated, or the young
noblemen whose plaything she had been, gazed at this
man with the inspired glance, quickened respiration, and
swelling breast, with an unfamiliar sensation of wonder.
She seemed herself to rise to the master's level; her
eyes shone, and the artist's inspiration was comunicated
to the model.

The sitting lasted two hours; at the end of that time
Benvenuto gave Catherine her gold crown, and took
leave of her as ceremoniously as before, making an
appointment for the following day at the same hour.

Catherine returned to her own room, and did not go
out during the day. The next morning she was at the
studio ten minutes before the appointed time.

The same scene was repeated. On that day, as on
the day before, Benvenuto's inspiration rose to sublime
heights; beneath his hand, as beneath that of Prome
theus, the clay seemed to breathe. The Bacchante's
head was already modelled, and seemed a living head
set upon a shapeless trunk. Catherine smiled upon this
celestial sister, fashioned in her image; she had never
been so happy, and, strangely enough, she was unable
to explain the sentiment which caused her happiness.

On the following day the master and the model met
again at the same hour; but Catherine was conscious of
a sensation, absent on the preceding days, which caused
the blood to rush to her face as soon as she began to dis
robe. The poor child was beginning to love, and love
brought modesty in its train.

On the fourth day it was still worse, and Benvenuto
was compelled several times to remind her that he was
not modelling the Venus de Medicis, but Erigone,

SCOZZONE. 63

Drunken with debauchery and wine. Moreover, her
patience would be tried but a little longer; two days
more, and the model's services would be no longer
required.

In the afternoon of the second day, Benvenuto, hav
ing given the last touch to his statue, thanked Catherine
for her complaisance, and gave her four gold crowns;
but Catherine let them fall to the floor. The poor
child's dream was ended; from that moment she must
return to her former condition, and that condition had
become hateful to her since the day that she entered the
master's studio. Benvenuto, who had no suspicion of
what was taking place in the girl's heart, picked up the
four crowns, handed them to her once more, pressing
her hand as he did so, and said to her that, if he ever
could be of service to her, she must apply to no one but
him. Then he passed into the apartment where his
apprentices were at work, seeking Ascanio, to whom he
wished to exhibit his completed statue.

Catherine kissed the tools the master had used, one
after another, and went away, weeping.

The next morning Catherine appeared at the studio
while Benvenuto was alone, and when he, astonished to
see her again, asked her why she had come, she knelt at
his feet and asked him if he did not need a servant.

Benvenuto had an artist's heart, quick to detect feel
ing in another. He divined what was taking place in
the poor child's heart, and raised her from the floor,
kissing her upon the forehead as he did so.

From that moment Catherine was a part of the studio ,
which, as we have said, she brightened and made cheerful
with her childish ways, and enlivened by her unceasing
activity. She had become almost indispensable to
everybody, above all to Benvenuto. She it was who

64 ASCANIO.

superintended and managed everything, scolding and
caressing Ruperta, who was dismayed at her first appear
ance in the household, but ended by loving her as
everybody else did.

The Erigone lost nothing by this arrangement. Hav
ing the model always at hand, Benvenuto had retouched
and perfected it with greater care than he had ever
before bestowed upon one of his statues, and had then
carried it to Francois I., whose admiration knew no
bounds, and who ordered him to execute it in silver.
He subsequently conversed for a long time with the
goldsmith, asked him if he was pleased with his studio,
where it was situated, and whether there were beautiful
things to be seen there; and when he dismissed him, he
determined in his own mind to take him by surprise
some morning, but said nothing to him of his intention.

Thus did matters stand when this history opens, —
Benvenuto working, Catherine singing, Ascanio dream
ing, and Pagolo praying.

On the day following that on which Ascanio returned
home so late, thanks to his excursion in the neighbor
hood of the Hotel de Nesle, there was a loud knocking
at the street door. Dame Ruperta at once rose to answer
the summons, but Scozzone (the reader will remember
that this was the name given to Catherine by Benvenuto)
Was already out of the room.

A moment later they heard her voice, half joyous,
half terrified, crying, —

" 0 mon Dieu ! master! mon Dieu ! it is the king!
The king in person has come to see your studio! "

And poor Scozzone, leaving all the doors open behind
her, reappeared, pale and trembling, on the threshold
of the workshop, where Benvenuto was at work, sur
rounded by his pupils and apprentices.

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 65

V.

GENIUS AND R05TALTY.

IN very truth, Francois I. was entering the courtyard
with all his retinue. He led by the hand the Duchesse
d'Etampes. The King of Navarre followed with the
Datiphine, Catherine de Medicis. The Dauphin, after
wards Henri II. , came next, with his aunt, Marguerite
de Valois, Queen of Navarre. Almost all the nobility
accompanied them.

Benvenuto went to meet them, without confusion or
embarrassment, and welcomed the king, princes, great
lords, and beautiful women as a friend welcomes friends.
And yet there were in the throng the most illustrious
names of France, and the most resplendent beauties in
the world. Marguerite charmed, Madame d'Etampes
entranced, Catherine de Medicis astonished, Diane de
Poitiers dazzled. But Benvenuto was familiar with the
purest types of antiquity and of the sixteenth century
in Italy, even as the beloved pupil of Michel-Angelo
was accustomed to the society of kings.

" You must needs permit us, madame, to adraire by
your side the marvels we are to behold," said Francois I.
to the Duchesse d'Etampes, who replied with a smile.

Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d'Etampes, who since
the king's return from his captivity in Spain had suc
ceeded the Comtesse de Chateaubriand in his favor,
was at this timor-in all the splendor of a truly royal
VOL. i. — 5

66 ASCANIO.

loveliness. Her figure was erect and graceful, and she
carried her charming head with a dignity and feline
grace which recalled at once the cat and panther, which
she also resembled in her habit of pouncing upon one
unexpectedly, and in her murderous appetites. With
all this the royal courtesan was very clever at assuming
an air of sincerity and candor which would disarm the
most suspicious. Nothing could be more mobile or
more treacherous than the features of this pale-lipped
woman, to-day Hermione, to-morrow Galatea, with her
smile, sometimes cajoling, sometimes terrible, — her
glance, at one moment caressing and suggestive, and
the next flaming with wrath. She had a habit of rais
ing her eyelids so slowly that one could never tell
whether they would disclose a languorous or a threaten
ing expression. Haughty and imperious, she subjugated
Francois I. by holding his passions enthralled; proud
and jealous, she insisted that he should call upon the
Comtesse de Chateaubriand to return the jewels he had
given her; by returning them in the form of bullion,
the lovely and melancholy countess did at least protest
against the profanation. Supple and deceitful, she hnd
closed her eyes more than once when the king's capri
cious fancy seemed to distinguish some charming young
woman at court, whom, however, he invariably aban
doned very soon to return to his beautiful enchantress.

" I was in haste to see you, Benvenuto, for two
months have now passed since your coming to our
realm, and vexatious affairs of state have since that
time forbade my turning my thoughts to things artistic.
Impute it to my brother and cousin, the Emperor, who
gives me not a moment of repose."

"If it is your will, Sire, I will write to him, and
pray that he will give you time to be a great friend to

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 67

art, since you have proved to him ere this that you are a
mighty captain."

" Pray , do you know Charles V. 1 " inquired the King
of Navarre.

" Four years since, Sire, I had the honor, being then
at Home, to present a missal of my making to his sacred
Majesty, and make a speech to him which seemed to
touch him nearly."

" What said Ms sacred Majesty to you? "

" He said that he already knew me from having seen
upon the Pope's cope, three years before, a carved stud,
which did me honor."

" Ah ! I see that you are spoiled for royal compli
ments," said Francois I.

" Sire, 't is true that I have had the fortune to please
many cardinals, grand dukes, princes, and kings."

"Prithee, show me your beautiful designs, that I
may see if I shall not be a harder judge to please than
others. "

" Sire, I have had very little time; however, here are
a vase and eilver basin which I have commenced, and
which are perhaps not too unworthy of your Majesty's
attention."

The king examined the two works of art for five
minutes without a word. It seemed that the handiwork
made him forget the workman. At last, as the ladies
gathered curiously about him, he spoke.

" See, mesdames," he cried, " what marvellous work
manship! Observe the bold and novel shape of this
vase! What ingenuity and marvellous modelling in
the bas-reliefs and bosses, mon Dieu ! Especially do I
admire the beauty of the lines; and see how true to life
and how diverse are the attitudes of the figures! Look
at the one holding her arms over her head ; the fugitive

68 ASCANIO.

gesture is so naturally seized that one wonders that she
doesn't continue the movement. In very truth, I be
lieve that the ancients never did anything so fine. I
rememher the best works of antiquity, and those of the
most eminent artists of Italy ; but nothing ever made so
deep an impression upon me as this. 0 Madame de
Navarre, I pray you look at this pretty child lost among
the flowers, and waving her little foot in the air; how
graceful and pretty and instinct with life it all is! "

"Others have complimented me, great king," cried
Benvenuto , " but you understand me ! "

" Have you aught else ? " asked the king, greedily.

" Here is a medallion representing Leda and her swan,
made for Cardinal Gabriel Cesarini ; and here a seal cut
in intaglio, representing Saint John and Saint Ambrose ;
this is a reliquary, enamelled by myself — "

" Do you strike medals ? " interposed Madame
d'Etampes.

" As Cavadone of Milan did, madame."

" And you work in enamel ? " said Marguerite.

" Like Amerigo of Florence."

" And you engrave seals ? " inquired Catherine.

"Like Lantizco of Perouse. Pray, did you think,
madame, that my talent is confined to the production
of tiny golden toys and great silver pieces? I can do a
little of everything, God be praised! I am a passable
military engineer, and I have twice prevented the cap
ture of Rome. I can turn a sonnet prettily , and your
Majesty has but to order me to compose a poem, pro
vided that it be in praise of yourself, and I will under
take to execute it neither better nor worse than if my
name were Clement Marot. As to music, which my
father taught me with a stick, I found the method an
admirable one, and I am so good a performer on the

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 69

.flute and cornet that Clement VII. employed me among
his musicians at the age of twenty-four. Furthermore,
I discovered the secret of compounding an excellent
powder, and I can also make beautiful carbines and
surgical instruments. If your Majesty is at war, and
chooses to employ me as man-at-arms, you will find that
I am not to be despised in that capacity, and that I
know as well how to handle an arquebus as to sigbt a
culverin. As a hunter I have brought down my
twenty-five peacocks in a day, and as an artillerist I
have freed the Emperor from the Prince of Orange, and
your Majesty from the Connetable de Bourbon : traitors
seem not to be fortunate when they encounter me."

" Of which exploit are you the prouder," the young
Dauphin interrupted, K of having killed the constable or
the twenty-five peacocks 1 "

" I am proud of neither, monseigneur. Like all other
gifts, address is God-given, and I simply used my
address. "

" By my faith, I was ignorant that you had already
rendered me so great a service," said the king, — " a
service which, however, my sister Marguerite will be
at great pains to pardon you. Was it indeed you who
slew the Connetable de Bourbon ? Prithee, how came
it to pass 1 "

" Mon Dieu ! it was the simplest thing in the world.
The constable's army had arrived unexpectedly before
Koine, and a vigorous assault upon the fortifications
was in progress. I sallied forth, with a few friends, to
watch the fighting. As I left my house, I instinctively
put my arquebus over my shoulder. When we reached
the walls of the city, I saw that there was nothing to
be done ; but, I said to myself, it shall not be said that
I came hither to so little purpose. So I aimed my

70 ASCANIO.

arquebus toward the point where I saw a numerous and
compact group of soldiers, and singled out one who
stood a head taller than his companions. He fell, and
a great uproar at once arose, caused by the shot I had
fired. I had, in truth, slain Bourbon. I learned after
ward that it was he who towered above his companions."

While Benvenuto was relating this incident with a
most indifferent air, the circle of lords and ladies of
which he was the centre spread out somewhat, and they
all gazed with respect, and almost with terror, at this
unconscious hero. Franqois I. alone remained at his
side.

"And so, my dear fellow," he said, " I see that you
loaned me your gallantry before consecrating your genius
to me."

" Sire," Benvenuto rejoined with a smile, " I believe,
in good sooth, that I was born to be your servitor. An
incident of my early youth has always seemed to me to
admit of no other interpretation. Your crest is a sala
mander, is it not ? "

"Yes, with this device: Nutrisco et extinyuo."

"Very well! When I was about five years old, I
was sitting one day with my father in a small room
where they had been scalding the lye, and where a rous
ing fire of young oak was still burning. It was very
cold. Happening to glance at the fire, I espied a tiny
creature like a lizard diverting itself in the spot where
the heat was most intense. I pointed it out to my
father, and my father — pray pardon me this detail of a
somewhat brutal custom of my country — struck me a
violent blow, and said to me, with great gentleness, ' I
do not strike thee because thou hast done wrong, dear
child, but so that thou mayst remember that the little
lizard thou hast seen in the fire is a salamander. No

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 71

•human being has ever seen that animal save thou. ' Was
not that a premonition of fate, Sire? Indeed, I think
I was predestined to do as I have done, for at the age
of twenty I was about to set out for England, when
the sculptor Pietro Torregiano, who was to take me
thither, told me that in his youth he one day struck
our Michel-Angelo in the face, on the occasion of some
studio quarrel. Ah! I abandoned all thought of the
journey then; not for a prince's title would I have
travelled with one who had raised his hand against my
great sculptor. I remained in Italy, and from Italy,
instead of going to England, I came to France."

" France, proud of your choice, Benvenuto, will see
to it that you do not sigh for your fatherland. "

"Oh! my fatherland is art, and my prince he who
commands the richest cup at my hands."

" Have you any beautiful work now in contemplation,
Cellini?"

"0 yes, Sire, — a Christ. Not a Christ upon the
Cross, but Christ in His radiance and glory; and I shall
copy as closely as possible the infinite beauty of the
guise in which he revealed himself to me."

" What! " laughed Marguerite, the sceptic; " in addi
tion to all the kings of earth, have you seen the King
of Heaven, too? "

"Yes, rnadame," replied Benvenuto, with childlike
simplicity.

"Oh! pray tell us of that," said the Queen of
Navarre.

"Willingly, madame," said Benvenuto, with a con
fident air, which implied that it did not occur to him
that any one could doubt any part of his story.

" Some time before," he continued, " I had seen Satan
and all his legions, whom a necromancing friend of

72 ASCANIO.

mine, a priest, evoked for me at the Coliseum.
Indeed, we had much ado to rid ourselves of them.
But the dread souvenir of those infernal apparitions
was forever banished from my mind when, in answer
to my fervent prayer, the blessed Saviour of mankind
appeared to me, in a flood of sunlight, crowned with
glory, and brought sweet consolation to me in the misery
of my captivity."

" And are you sure beyond a perad venture," demanded
the Queen of Navarre, " so sure that you have no shadow
of doubt, that Christ really appeared to you? "

" I have no doubt of it, madame."

" In that case, Benvenuto, go on and fashion a Christ
for our chapel," said Francois I., with his usual good
humor.

" Sire, if your Majesty will eo far indulge me, I pray
you to order something different, and allow me to post
pone the execution of that work."

" Why so ? "

" Because I promised God to undertake it for no other
sovereign than Him."

"A la bonne heuref Be it so! Benvenuto, I need
twelve candlesticks for my table."

"Ah! that is a different matter; and therein, Sire,
you shall be obeyed."

"It is my wish that they should take the form of
twelve silver statues."

" The effect will be magnificent, Sire."

" They must represent six gods and six goddesses, and
be of my own height."

"Why, your order is for a whole epic poem," said
the Duchesse d'Etarapes; "for a work of marvellous,
surprising splendor, is it not, Monsieur Benvenuto 1 "

" I am never surprised, madame. "

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 73

"I should be greatly surprised, myself," retorted the
duchess, somewhat piqued, " if other sculptors than
those of the olden time could carry such a task to
completion. "

" I hope, nevertheless, to execute it as satisfactorily
as they could have done," rejoined Benvenuto, coolly.

"Oho! are you not inclined to boast a little, Mon
sieur Benvenuto ? "

" I never boast, madame. "

As he made this reply with perfect calmness, Cellini
looked at Madame d'Etampes, and the haughty duchess
lowered her eyes, in spite of herself, under that firm,
assured glance, in which there was no trace of irritation.
Her resentment was aroused by the consciousness of his
superiority, to which she yielded even while resisting
it, and without knowing in what it consisted. She had
thought hitherto that beauty was the greatest power in
the world ; she had forgotten genius.

" What treasure," said she, with a bitter sneer, " would
suffice to recompense such talent as yours ? "

"None that I can command, i' faith," rejoined Fran-
§ois I. , " and apropos, Benvenuto, I remember that you
have as yet received but five hundred crowns. Will
you be content with the stipend which I allowed my
painter, Leonardo da Vinci, seven hundred gold crowns
yearly ? I will pay gver and above that for all works
which you may execute for me."

" Sire, your offer is worthy such a king as Francois I. ,
and — I venture to say it — of such an artist as Cellini.
And yet I shall make so bold as to prefer a request to
your Majesty."

" It is granted in advance, Benvenuto."

" Sire, I am but ill and narrowly accommodated in
this edifice. One of my pupils has discovered a location

74 ASCAN10.

much more favorably situated than this for the execu
tion of such great works as my king may choose to
command. The property in question belongs to your
Majesty; it is the Grand-Nesle. It is at the disposal
of the Provost of Paris, but he does not dwell therein;
he occupies only the Petit-Nesle, which I will gladly
leave in his possession."

"So be it, Benvenuto," said Franqois; "take up
your abode at the Grand-Nesle, and I shall have only
to cross the river to talk with you and admire your
masterpieces."

a Consider, Sire," interposed Madame d'Etampes,
"that you thereby, for no motive, deprive a nobleman,
and one devoted to my service, of property appertaining
to his office.

Benvenuto glanced at her, and for the second time
Anne lowered her eyes beneath that steady, piercing
gaze. Cellini rejoined, with the same na'ive good
faith with which he had described the supernatural
apparitions : —

u I, too, am of noble birth, madame; my family de
scends from a gallant officer, who held high rank under
Julius Caesar, — one Fiorino, of Cellino, near Monte-
fiascone, — and who gave his name to Florence; while
your provost and his ancestors, if my memory serves
me, have never given their name to anything. How
ever," continued Benvenuto, turning to Francois, and
changing his expression and his tone, " it may be that
I have made too bold, — it may be that I shall incur
the hatred of powerful and influential persons, who,
despite your Majesty's protection, may prove too strong
for me at last. The Provost of Paris is said to have
something very like an army at his orders."

" I have been told," the king interrupted, " that on

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 75

'a certain day, at Rome, one Cellini, a goldsmith, re
tained, in default of payment therefor, a silver vase
ordered by Monsieur Farnese, then cardinal, and to-day
Pope."

"It is true, Sire."

" Furthermore, that the cardinal's whole household
stormed the goldsmith's studio, sword in hand, with
the design of carrying away the vase by force."

"That, too, is true."

" But this Cellini, in ambush behind the door, armed
with his carbine, did defend himself so valorously that
he put Monseigneur le Cardinal's people to flight; and
was paid \>y the cardinal on the following day."

" All that, Sire, is strictly true."

" Very good! are not you the Cellini in question? "

"Yes, Sire; let your Majesty but continue to bestow
your favor upon me and nothing has any power to
terrify me."

" In that case, go straight before you," said the king,
smiling in his beard; "go where you will, since you
are of noble blood. "

Madame d'Etampes said no more, but she registered
a mental vow of deadly hatred to Cellini from that
moment, — the hatred of an offended woman.

"One last favor, Sire," said Cellini. "I cannot
present all my workmen to you ; they are ten in num
ber, some French, some German, all worthy, talented
comrades. But here are my two pupils whom I brought
from Italy with me, Pagolo and Ascanio. Come
forward, Pagolo, and raise your head and your eyes a
little; not impertinently, but like an honest man who
has no evil action to blush for. This good fellow lacks
inventive genius perhaps, Sire, and is slightly lacking
in earnestness, too; but he is a careful, conscientious

76 ASCANIO.

artist, who works slowly, but well, who comprehends
my ideas perfectly, and executes them faithfully. And
this is Ascanio, my noble-hearted, amiable pupil, and
my beloved child. It is doubtless true that he has not
the vigorous creative faculty which will represent in a
bas-relief the serried ranks of two hostile armies meet
ing in deadly encounter, and tearing each other to
pieces, or lions and tigers clinging with claws and teeth
to the edge of a vase. Nor has he the original fancy
which invents horrible chimeras and impossible dragons.
No; but his soul, which resembles his body, has the
instinct of a divine ideal, so to speak. Ask him to
design an angel, or a group of nymphs, and no one can
equal the exquisite poesy and grace of his work. With
Pagolo I have four arms, with Ascanio I have two souls ;
and then he loves me, and I am very happy to have
always by my side a pure and devoted heart like his."

While his master was speaking, Ascanio stood near
him, modestly, but without embarrassment, in an atti
tude of unstudied grace, and Madame d'Etampes could
not remove her eyes from the fascinating young Italian,
black-eyed and black-haired, who seemed a living copy
of Apollino.

"If Ascanio, " said she, " understands grace and beauty
so well, and if he cares to come some morning to the
Hotel d'Etampes, I will furnish him with precious stones
and gold, with which he may cause some marvellous
flower to bloom for me."

Ascanio bowed and thanked her with a glance.

" And I," said the king, " grant to him, as well as to
Pagolo, a yearly pension of one hundred crowns."

" I undertake to make them earn their pension, Sire, "
said Benvenuto.

" But who is the lovely child with the long eye-

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 77

lashes, hiding yonder in the corner?" said Francois,
spying Scozzone for the first time.

" Oh, pay no attention to her, Sire," replied Ben-
venuto, with a frown; "she is the only one of the
beautiful things in this studio whom I like not to have
noticed."

" Aha ! you are jealous, my Benvenuto."

" Mon Dieu ! Sire, I like not that any hand should be
laid upon my property ; to compare small things with
great, it is as if some other should dare to think of
Madame d'Etampes ; you would be furious, Sire. Scoz
zone is my duchess."

The duchess, who was gazing at Ascanio, bit her lips
at this unceremonious interruption. Many courtiers
smiled in spite of themselves, and all the ladies giggled.
As for the king, he laughed outright.

" Foi de gentilhomme ! your jealousy is within its
right, Benvenuto, and an artist and a king may well
understand each other. Adieu, my friend : I commend
my statues to your attention. You will commence with
Jupiter, naturally, and when you have finished the model
you will show it to me. Adieu, and good luck ! We
will meet at the Hotel de IXTesle."

" To bid me show you the model is a simple matter,
Sire ; but how shall I gain entrance to the Louvre 1 "

"Your name will be given at the gates, with orders to
introduce you to my presence."

Cellini bowed, and with Pagolo and Ascanio, escorted
the king and court to the street. At the door he knelt
and kissed the king's hand.

" Sire," he said with deep feeling, " you have hereto
fore saved me from captivity, perhaps from death, through
the intervention of Monseigneur de Montluc ; you have
overwhelmed me with wealth, you have honored my pooi

78 ASCANIO.

studio with your presence ;. but far more than all this,
Sire, is the fact, and I know not how to thank you that
it is so, that you so magnificently anticipate all my
dreams. We ordinarily work only for a chosen few
scattered through the centuries, hut I shall have had the
signal honor of finding a living judge, always present,
always enlightened. Until now I have been only the
workman of the future; permit me henceforth to call
myself your Majesty's goldsmith."

"My workman, my goldsmith, my artist, and my
friend, Benvenuto, if the last title seems to you no more
deserving of contempt than the others. Adieu, or rather,
au revoir."

It is needless to say that all the princes and nobles
followed the example set by the king, and loaded Cellini
with flattery and offers of friendship.

When all were gone, and Benvenuto was left alone in
the courtyard with his pupils, they thanked him, Ascanio
effusively, Pagolo with something very like constraint.

" Nay, do not thank me, my children, it 's not worth
while. But look you, if you do in truth consider your
selves under any obligation to me, I wish, since this sub
ject of conversation was introduced to-day, to ask a
service at your hands ; it relates to something which I
have very much at heart. You heard what I said to the
king apropos of Catherine, and what I said to him truly
expressed the deepest feeling of my heart. The child is
necessary to my life, my friends ; to my life as an artist,
because, as you know, her services as a model are offered
eo freely and joyously ; to my life as a man, because I
think that she loves me. I pray you, therefore, although
she is beautiful, and although you are young, as she also
is, do not let your thoughts rest upon Catherine ; there
are enough other lovely girls in the world. Do not tear

GENIUS AND ROYALTY. 79

my heart, do not insult my affection by casting bold
glances upon my Scozzone ; nay, ratber watch over her in
my absence, and advise her as if you were her brothers.
I conjure you, observe my wishes herein, for I know
myself and my feeling in this matter, and I swear before
God, that if I should discover aught amiss, I would kill
her and her accomplice."

" Master," said Ascanio, " I respect you as my master,
and I love you as my father ; have no fear."

" Blessed Jesus ! " cried Pagolo, clasping his hands,
*' may God preserve me from thinking of such an infa
mous action ! Do I not know that I owe everything to
you, and would it not be a crime thus to abuse your
sacred confidence in me, and to repay your benefactions
by such dastardly treachery ? "

" Thanks, my friends," said Benvenuto, pressing their
hands. " I have perfect faith in you, and I am content.
Now, Pagolo, return to your work, for I have promised
the seal at which you are working to M. de Villeroi for
to-morrow ; while Ascanio and myself pay a visit to the
estate which our gracious king has bestowed upon us, and
of which we will take possession on Sunday next, peace
ably or by force."

Then he turned to Ascanio.

" Come, Ascanio," said he, " let us go and see if this
Nesle habitation, which seemed to you so eligible in its
external aspect, has internal appointments corresponding
to its reputation."

Before Ascanio had time to offer any observation,
Benvenuto, with a parting glance over the studio to see
if every workman was in his place, and a light tap upon
Scozzone's plump, rosy cheek, passed his arm through
his pupil's, drew him toward the door, and went out with
him.

80 ASCANIO.

VI.

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT.

THEY had taken hardly ten steps in the street, when they
met a man of some fifty years, rather short of stature,
but with a handsome, mobile countenance.

" I was about to call upon you, Benvenuto," said the
new arrival, whom Ascanio saluted with respect, mingled
with veneration, and whose hand Benvenuto cordially
grasped.

" Is your business of importance, my dear Francesco?"
said the goldsmith . " In that case, I will return with
you ; or was it for no other purpose than a friendly call J
In that case, come with us."

" It was to proffer you some friendly advice, Ben
venuto."

" I will gladly listen. Advice is always a good thing
to receive when it is proffered by a friend."

" But that which I have to give you is for no other ear
than yours."

" This youth is another myself, Francesco ; say on."

" I would already have done so, had I thought that I
ought to do it," replied Benvenuto's friend.

" Pardon, master," said Ascanio, discreetly moving
apart.

" Very well ; go alone whither I purposed going with
you, dear boy," said Benvenuto; "as you know, when
you have seen a thing it is as if I had myself seen
it. Look most carefully into every detail : see if the

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 81

studio will have a good light, if the courtyard will be a
convenient place for a furnace, and if it will be possible
to separate our workshop from that of the other appren
tices. Do not forget the tennis-court."

With that Benvenuto passed his arm through the
stranger's, waved his hand to Ascanio, and returned to
the studio, leaving the young man standing in the middle
of Rue Saint-Martin.

In very truth there was in the commission intrusted to
him by his master more than enough to embarrass As
canio. His embarrassment was by no means slight, even
when Benvenuto proposed that they should make the
visit of inspection in company. Judge, then, what it
became when he found himself confronted with the pros
pect of making it all alone. He had watched Colombo
two Sundays without daring to follow her, had followed
her on the third without daring to accost her, and now he
was to present himself at her home ; and for what pur
pose ? To examine the Hotel de Nesle, which Benvenuto
proposed, by way of pastime, to take from Colombe's
father on the following Sunday, willy-nilly.

It was a false position for anybody ; it was terrible for
a lover.

Fortunately it was a long distance from Rue Saint-
Martin to the Hotel de Nesle. Had it been only a step
or two, Ascanio would not have taken them ; but it was
a half-league, so he started.

Nothing so familiarizes one with danger as to be sepa
rated from it by a considerable time or distance. To all
strong minds and happy dispositions, reflection is a
powerful auxiliary. Ascanio belonged to the latter class.
In those days it was not fashionable to be disgusted with
life before one had fairly entered upon it. All the im
pulses were ingenuous and ingenuously expressed, — joy
VOL. i. — 6

82 ASCANIO.

by laughter, sorrow by tears. Affectation was a thing
almost unknown, in life as in art, and a comely youth of
twenty was in no wise ashamed in those days to confess
that he was happy

But in all Ascanio's embarrassment there was a certain
amount of joy. He had not expected to see Colombo
again until the following Sunday, and he was to see her
that very day. Thus he had gained six days, and six
days of waiting are, as everybody knows, six centuries
according to a lover's reckoning.

And so, as he approached his destination, the affair
became more simple in his eyes. He it was, to be sure,
who had advised Benvenuto to ask the king for the Hotel
de Nesle for his studio, but could Colombe take it ill of
him that he had desired to be near her 1 This installa
tion of the Florentine goldsmith in the old palace of
Amaury could not, it was true, be carried out without
interference with Colombo's father, who looked upon it
as his own ; but would any real injury be inflicted upon
Messire Robert d'Estourville when he did not occupy it?
Moreover, there were a thousand ways in which Ben
venuto could pay for his occupancy ; — a chased cup for
the provost, a necklace for his daughter (and Ascanio
would undertake to make the necklace), might, and
undoubtedly would, in that artistic age, make the rough
places smooth. Ascanio had seen grand dukes, kings, and
popes ready to give their coronets, sceptres, or tiaras as
the price of one of the marvellous examples of his mas
ter's art. After all, then, supposing that matters should
take that course, Messire Robert would eventually be in
Master Benvenuto's debt ; for Master Benvenuto was so
generous that, if Messire Robert showed a disposition to
be courteous and compliant, Ascanio was certain that he,
Master Benvenuto, would deal right royally with him.

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 83

By the time he reached the end of Hue Saint-Martin,
'Ascanio looked upon himself as a messenger of peace,
chosen hy the Lord to maintain harmonious relations
between two powers.

And yet, notwithstanding that conviction, Ascanio was
not sorry — surely lovers are strange creatures — to
lengthen his journey by ten minutes, and instead of
crossing the Seine by boat, he walked the whole length
of the quays, and crossed by the Pont aux Moulins. It
may be that he chose that road because it was the
same he had taken the evening before when following
Colombe.

Whatever his motive for making the detour, he finally
found himself in front of the Hotel de Nesle in about
twenty minutes.

But when he saw the little ogive door that he must
pass through, when he saw the turrets of the lovely little
Gothic palace boldly raising their heads above the wall,
when he thought that behind those jalousies, half closed
because of the heat, was his beautiful Colombe, the whole
card-house of happy dreams which he had built on the
road vanished like the structures one sees in the clouds,
and which the wind overturns with one blow of its wing ;
he found himself face to face with reality, and reality did
not seem to him the most reassuring thing in the world.

However, after a few moments of hesitation — hesita
tion which is the harder to understand, in that he was
absolutely alone upon the quay in the intense heat — he
realized that he must make up his mind to do something.
As there was nothing for him to do but find his way into
the hotel, he walked to the door and raised the knocker.
But God only knows when he would have let it fall, had
not the door chanced to open at that moment, bringing
tiim face to face with a sort of Master Jacques, a man

84 ASCANIO.

about thirty years of age, half servant, half peasant. It
was Messire Robert J'Estourville's gardener.

Ascanio and the gardener mutually recoiled a step.

"What do you want?" said the gardener; " whom do
you seek ] "

Ascanio, thus compelled to go forward with his mis
sion, summoned all his courage, and replied bravely ; —

" 1 desire to inspect the hotel."

" To inspect the hotel ! " cried the gardener in amaze
ment ; " in whose name ? "

" In the king's name ! " Ascanio replied.

" In the king's name ! " cried the gardener. " Jesus-
Dieu ! does the king intend to take it from us ? "

" Perhaps so ! "

" But what does it mean ? "

" Pray understand, my friend," said Ascanio, with a
self-possession upon which he mentally congratulated him
self, " that I have no explanation to give you."

" Time With whom do you desire to speak 1 "

" Is Monsieur le Prevot within ? " inquired Ascanio,
knowing perfectly well that he was not.

" No, Monsieur ; he is at the Chatelet."

" Indeed ! Who takes his place in his absence ? "

" His daughter is here ; Mademoiselle Colombe."

Ascanio felt that he was blushing to his ears.

" And there is Dame Perrine, too," the gardener con
tinued. " Does Monsieur desire to speak with Dame
Perrine or with Mademoiselle Colombe ? "

This was a very simple question, surely, and yet it
caused a terrible conflict in Ascanio's mind. He opened
his mouth to say that he wished to see Mademoiselle
Colombp, and yet it was as if the audacious words
refused to pass his lips, and he asked for Dame Perrine.

The gardener, who had no suspicion that his question,

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 85

which seemed so simple to him, had caused such a dis
turbance, bowed in token of obedience, and went across
the courtyard toward the door of the Petit-Nesle. Ascanio
followed him.

He had to cross a second courtyard, pass through a
second door, then cross a small flower-garden, ascend a
flight of steps, and traverse a long gallery. At the end
of the gallery the gardener opened the door and said : —

" Dame Perrine, here is a young gentleman, who asks
to inspect the hotel, in the king's name."

With that he stood aside and made room for Ascanio,
who took his place in the doorway.

As he glanced into the room, a cloud passed before his
eyes, and he leaned against the door frame for support.
A very simple, and yet entirely unforeseen thing had
happened; Dame Perrine was with Colombe, and he
found himself in the presence of both.

Dame Perrine was sitting at the spinning-wheel, spin
ning. Colombe was at work at her embroidery frame.
They raised their heads at the same instant and looked
toward the door.

Colombe instantly recognized Ascanio. She expected
him, although her reason told her that he was not likely
to come. As for him, when he saw the maiden's eyes
raised to his face, although their expression was infinitely
soft and sweet, it seemed to him that he was dying.

The fact is, that he had anticipated a thousand diffi
culties, had dreamed of a thousand obstacles to be sur
mounted before he could win his way to his beloved.
Those obstacles would have aroused all his energy and
strengthened his resolution ; and lo ! everything came
about as naturally and simply as if God, touched by the
purity of his passion, had smiled upon it and blessed it
from the first. He found himself in her presence when

86 ASCANIO.

he was least expecting it, and of all the beautiful speech
he had prepared, the fervent eloquence of which was to
amaze and move her, he could not recall a phrase, a word,
a syllable.

Colombe, for her part, sat motionless and dumb. The
two pure-souled young creatures, who, as if they had been
already joined in wedlock in heaven, felt that they be
longed to one another, and who, when once their lives
had brought them close together, would thenceforth form,
like Salmacis and Hermaphrodite, but one existence,
were terrified at their first meeting, trembled, hesitated,
and stood face to face unable to find words.

Dame Perrine, half rising from her chair, and preparing
to put aside her spinning, was the first to break the silence.

"What did that blockhead Eaimbault say?" cried
the worthy duenna. " Did you hear, Colombe 1 " As
Colombe did not reply, she continued, walking toward
Ascanio : " What is your pleasure here, my young mas
ter? Why, God forgive me ! " she suddenly exclaimed,
as she recognized the visitor, " it 's the gallant youth who
so politely handed me the holy water at the church door
these last three Sundays ! What is your pleasure, my
handsome friend ? "

" I would be glad to speak with you," faltered Ascanio.

" With me alone *? " queried Dame Perrine coquettishly.

" With you — alone — "

As he made this reply Ascanio told himself that he
was a consummate ass.

"Come this way, then, young man," said Dame Per
rine, opening a door at the side of the room, and signing
to Ascanio to follow her.

Ascanio did as she bade him, but as he left the room
he cast upon Colombe one of those long, eloquent glances
wherein lovers can say so much, and which, however

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 87

unintelligible they may be to indifferent observers, are
always understood at last by the person to whom they
are addressed. Colombe undoubtedly lost no portion of
its meaning, for her eyes, how she knew not, having met
the youth's, she blushed prodigiously, and when she felt
that she was blushing, she cast her eyes down upon her
embroidery, and began to mangle a poor inoffensive
flower. Ascanio saw the blush, and, stopping abruptly,
stepped toward Colombe ; but at that moment Dame
Perrine turned and called him, and he was compelled to
follow her.

He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the door
than Colombe dropped her needle, let her arms fall beside
her chair, threw back her head, and breathed a long sigh,
in which were mingled, by one of those inexplicable
miracles which the heart alone can perform, regret at
Ascanio's departure, and a sort of relief to feel that he
was no longer there.

The young man was very perceptibly in a bad humor ;
with Benvenuto, who had given him such a strange com
mission to fulfil ; with himself, for his inability to take
advantage of his opportunity ; but most of all with Dame
Perrine, who was cruel enough to make him leave the
room just when Colombe's eyes seemed to bid him
remain.

So it was that, when the duenna inquired as to the pur
pose of his visit, Ascanio replied in a most deliberate
manner, determined to be revenged upon her for his own
bungling: —

" The purpose of my visit, my dear Madame, is to beg
you to show me the Hotel de Nesle from one end to the
other."

" Show you the Hotel de Nesle ! " cried Dame Perrine ;
" why, in Heaven's name, do you desire to see it ? "

88 ASCANIO.

" To see if it will he convenient for us, if we shall he
comfortahle here, and if it is worth while for us to leave
our present quarters to come and live here."

" What ! come and live here ! Pray have you hired
the hotel of Monsieur le Prevot ] "

" No, but his Majesty gives it to us."

" His Majesty gives it to you ! " exclaimed Dame
Perrine, more and more amazed.

" Absolutely," replied Ascanio.

" To you 1 "

" Not precisely, my good woman, but to my master."

" And who is your master, if I may ask, young man ?
Some great foreign nobleman, no doubt ? "

" Better than that, Dame Perrine, — a great artist,
come hither from Florence, expressly to serve his Most
Christian Majesty."

" Aha ! " said the good woman, who did not understand
very well ; " what does your master make ? "

" What does he make ? Why, he makes everything :
rings to put on maidens' fingers ; ewers to put upon kings'
tables ; statues to place in the temples of the gods ; and
in his leisure moments he besieges or defends cities, as
his caprice leads him to cause an emperor to tremble, or
to reassure a pope."

" Jesus Dieu ! " cried Dame Perrine : " what is your
master's name ?"

" His name is Benvenuto Cellini."

" It 's strange that I don't know that name," muttered
the duenna ; " what is his profession ? "

"He is a goldsmith."

Dame Perrine gazed wonderingly at Ascanio.

" A goldsmith ! " she muttered, " a goldsmith ! And do
yon fancy that Monsieur le PreVot will give up his palace
like this to a — goldsmith ? "

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 89

" If he does n't give it up, we will take it."

" By force 1 "

" Even so."

" But your master will hardly dare to contend against
Monsieur le Pre'vot, I trust."

" He has contended against three dukes and two
popes."

" Jesus Dieu ! Two popes ! He 's not a heretic
surely ? "

" He is as good a Catholic as you and I, Dame Per-
rine : have no fear on that score ; Satan is in no wise
our ally. But in default of the devil, we have the king
on our side."

" So ! but Monsieur le Prevot has a more powerful
protector than the king."

" Whom has he, pray ? "

" Madame d'Etampes."

" Then we are on equal terms," said Ascanio.

" But suppose Messire d'Estourville refuses ? "

" Master Benvenuto will take."

" And suppose Messire d'Estourville shuts himself up
here as in a citadel?"

" Master Cellini will lay siege to it."

" Consider that the provost has twenty-four sergeants-
at-arms."

" Master Benvenuto Cellini has ten apprentices : still
we are on equal terms, you see, Dame Perrine."

"But Messire d'Estourville is personally a sturdy
fighter. At the tournament which took place at the time
of the marriage of Franqois I., he was one of the chal
lengers, and all those who dared measure swords with
him were unhorsed."

" Ah well ! Dame Perrine, then he is just the man
for Benvenuto, who has never met his match, and who.

90 ASCANIO.

like Messire d'Estourville, always unhorses his adversa
ries. But there is this difference between them : a fort
night afterward, they who have encountered your provost
are on their legs again in good health and spirits, while
they who have my master to deal with never raise their
heads again, and three days after are dead and buried."

" Evil will come of this ! evil will come of this ! "
muttered Dame Perrine. "Young man, they say that
fearful things are done in cities taken by assault."

"Have no fear on that head, Dame Perrine," rejoined
Ascanio with a smile. "You will have to do with
generous conquerors."

"What I mean, my dear child," said Dame Perrine,
who was not sorry perhaps, to secure a friend among the
besiegers, " is that I fear there may be bloodshed ; for, so
far as your proximity to us is concerned, you will under
stand that it cannot fail to be very agreeable to us, since
society is somewhat scanty in this accursed desert to
which Messire d'Estourville has consigned his daughter
and myself, like two wretched nuns, although neither
she nor I have taken the vows, thank God ! It is n't
good for man to be alone, so saith Holy Writ, and when
Holy Writ mentions man, woman is included. Is not
that your opinion, young man ? "

" That goes without saying."

" And we are entirely alone, and therefore very doleful
in this vast habitation."

" Why, do you receive no visitors here ? " Ascanio
asked.

" J^sus Dieu ! it 's worse than if we were mms, as I
told you. Nuns have parents at least, and friends who
come and talk to them through the grating. They have
the refectory where they can assemble and talk together.
It's not very diverting, I know, but it 's something never-

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 91

theless. But we have only Messire le Pr^vot, who
'comes from time to time to lecture his daughter for
growing too lovely, I think, — it 's her only crime, poor
child, — and to scold me because I don't watch her closely
enough, — God save the mark ! when she does n't see a
living soul in the world except myself, and, aside from
what she says to me, does n't open her mouth except to
pray. I beg you, therefore, young man, not to say to any
one that you have been admitted here, that you have
inspected the Grand-Nesle under my guidance, or that
you talked with us for an instant at the Petit- Nesle."

" What ! " cried Ascanio, " after our visit to the Grand-
Xesle, I am to return with you to the Petit 1 In that
case I shall — " He checked himself, realizing that his
joy was carrying him too far.

"I think it would not be courteous, young man, after
presenting yourself, as you did, to Mademoiselle Colombe,
who is the mistress of the house in her father's absence,
and after asking to speak with me alone, — I do not
think it would be courteous, I say, to leave the Hotel de
Nesle without taking leave of her. But if you prefer
not to do so, you are quite at liberty, as you know, to go
into the street directly from the Grand-Nesle, which has
its own exit."

" No, no, no indeed ! " cried Ascanio, eagerly. " Peste !
I flatter myself, Dame Perrine, that I have been as well
brought up as anybody on earth, and that I know what
good breeding requires in one's treatment of ladies. But,
let us do what we have to do, Dame Perrine, without a
moment's delay, for I am in very great haste."

Indeed, now that Ascanio knew that he was to return
by way of the Petit-Nesle he was in a great hurry to be
done with the Grnnd. And as Dame Perrine was ter
ribly afraid of being surprised by the provost when she

92 ASCANIO.

least expected it, she had no inclination to delay Ascanio!
so she took down a bunch of keys from behind a door,
and walked on before him.

Let us, in company with Ascanio, cast a hasty glance
at this Hotel de Nesle, where the principal scenes of our
narrative will be laid.

The Hotel, or rather the S£jour de Nesle, as it was
more commonly called at that time, occupied, as our
readers already know, the site on the left bank of the
Seine, on which the Hotel de Nevers was subsequently
built, to be in its turn succeeded by the Mint and the
Institute. It was the last building in Paris toward the
southwest, and beyond its walls nothing could be seen
save the city moat, and the verdant lawns of the Pre-
aux-Clercs. It was built by Amaury, Lord of Nesle in
Picardie, toward the close of the eighth century. Phi
lippe le Bel bought it in 1308 and made it his royal resi
dence. In 1520 the Tour de Nesle, of bloody and
licentious memory, was separated from it, when the
quay, the bridge over the moat, and the Porte de Nesle
were constructed, and thenceforth the grim tower stood
alone upon the river bank, like a sinner doing penance.

But the Sejour de Nesle luckily was so vast that the
lopping off of part of it was not noticed. It was as
large as a small village ; a high wall, pierced by a broad
ogive door and a smaller servants' door, protected it on
the side of the quay. On entering you found yourself at
first in an immense courtyard surrounded by walls ; there
was a door in the wall at the left, and one at the back.
Passing through the door at the left, as Ascanio did, you
came to a charming little building in the Gothic style of
the fourteenth century ; it was the Petit-Nesle, which
had its own separate garden. If, on the other hand,
you passed through the door in the rear wall, you saw

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 93

at your right the Grand-Nesle, — all of stone, and flanked
•by two turrets, — with its high peaked roofs, surrounded
by balustrades, its angular facade, its high windows with
glass of many colors, and its twenty weather-vanes crying
in the wind ; there was room enough to provide accom
modation for three bankers of to-day.

If you went on, you lost yourself in all sorts of gar
dens, and you found among them a tennis-court, a bowl
ing-green, a foundry, and an arsenal ; and still farther
on the stable-yards, stables, cattle-sheds, and sheepfolds;
there was accommodation for the establishments of three
farmers of to-day.

The whole property, it should be said, was sadly
neglected, and consequently in very bad condition, for
Raimbault and his two assistants hardly sufficed to take
proper care of the garden belonging to the Petit-Nesle,
where Colombe raised flowers, and Dame Perrine vege
tables. But the whole was of vast extent, well lighted,
and substantially built, and with a slight outlay of trouble
and money, it could be made the finest workshop in the
world.

Even if the place had been infinitely less suitable,
Ascanio would have been none the less enchanted with
it, as his principal desire was to be brought near to
Colombe.

His visit to the larger building was made very short :
in less time than it takes to write it, the active youth
saw everything that there was to see, and formed an opin
ion upon everything that he saw. Dame Perrine, find
ing it impossible to keep pace with him, good-naturedly
handed him the keys, which he faithfully restored to her
when his investigation was at an end.

"Now, Dame Perrine," said he. "I am at your
service."

94 ASCANIO.

" Very good : let us return for a moment to the Petit-
Nesle, as you agree with me that it is the proper thing
to do."

" I should say as much ! It would be extremely dis
courteous to do otherwise."

" But not a word to Colombo of the object of your
visit."

" Mon Dieu ! what shall I say to her, then 1 " cried
Ascanio.

" You 're easily embarrassed, my handsome lad. Did
you not tell me that you are a goldsmith 1 "

" Indeed, yes."

" Very well, talk to her about jewels ; that is a sub
ject that always gladdens the heart of the most virtuous
maiden. She is or is not a true daughter of Eve, and
if she is a true daughter of Eve she loves anything
that glitters. Besides, she has so little diversion in her
solitude, poor child ! that it would be a blessing to enter
tain her a little. To be sure, the most suitable entertain
ment for a girl of her age would be a good marriage ;
and Master Robert never comes hither that I do not
whisper in his ear, ' Find a husband for the poor dear ;
pray find a husband for her.' "

Without stopping to consider what conjectures as to
the relations between herself and the provost might be
set on foot by this declaration of her familiar manner
of addressing him, Dame Perrine led the way back to
the Petit-Nesle and to the room where they had left
Colombe.

Colombe was still absorbed in thought, and in the
same attitude in which we left her. But no one knows
how many times she had raised her head and fixed her
eyes upon the door through which the comely youth had
gone from her sight ; any one who had observed these

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 95

oft-repeated glances might have thought that she was
•expecting him. But as she saw the door turning upon
its hinges, Colombo went about her work once more so
earnestly that neither Dame Perrine nor Ascanio could
suspect that it had been interrupted.

How she had divined that the young man was fol
lowing the duenna is something that might have been
explained by magnetism, if magnetism had then been
invented.

" I bring back with me our donor of holy water, my
dear Colombe, for he it is, as I thought. I was about
to show him out by the door of the Grand-Nesle, when
he reminded me that he had not taken leave of you. It
was true enough, for you did n't say one little word to
each other before. However, neither of you is dumb,
God be praised ! "

"Dame Perrine — " faltered Colombe, greatly embar*
rassed.

" Well ! what is it ? You must not blush like that.
Monsieur Ascanio is an honorable young man, as you are
a virtuous young woman. Furthermore, it seems that he
is an artist in jewels, precious stones, and such gewgaws
as suit the fancy of most pretty girls. He will come
and show them to you, my child, if you wish."

" I need nothing," murmured Colombe.

" Possibly not at this moment ; but it is to be hoped
that you will not die a recluse in this accursed solitude.
We are but sixteen years old, Colombe, and the day will
come when we shall be a lovely fiancee, to whom all
sorts of jewels will be presented, and after that a great
lady, who must have all sorts of finery. When that time
comes, it will be as well to give the preference to this
youth's as to those of some other artist, who surely will
not be comparable to him."

96 ASCANIO.

Colombe was on the rack. Ascanio, to whom Dame
Perriue's forecasts of the future were but moderately
pleasing, noticed her suffering, and came to the rescue of
the poor child, to whom direct conversation was a thou
sand times less embarrassing than this monologue by a
self-constituted interpreter.

" Oh ! mademoiselle," said he, " do not deny me the
great privilege of bringing some of my handiwork to you ;
it seems to me now as if I made them for you, and as if
when making them I was thinking of you. Oh ! believe
it, I pray you, for we artists in jewels sometimes mingle
our own thoughts with the gold and silver and precious
stones. In the diadems with which your heads are
crowned, the bracelets which encircle your white arms,
the necklaces which rest so lovingly upon your shoulders,
in the flowers, the birds, the angels, the chimeras, which
we make to tremble at your ears, we sometimes embody
our respectful adoration."

It is our duty as an historian to state that at these soft
words Colombe's heart dilated, for Ascanio, mute so long,
was speaking at last, and speaking as she had dreamed
that he would speak ; for without raising her eyes the
girl could feel his burning glance fixed upon her, and
there was nothing, even to the unfamiliar tone of his
voice, which did not impart a singular charm to these
words which sounded so strangely in Colombe's ears, and
a profound and irresistible meaning to the flowing, har
monious language of love, which maidens understand
before they can speak it.

"I know," Ascanio continued, with his eyes still fixed
upon Colombe, " I know that we can add nothing to
your beauty. God is made none the richer by decking
out his altar. But we can at least surround your grace
ful form with those things which are attractive and

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 97

beautiful like itself ; and when we poor, humble artificers
of splendor and enchantment from the depths of our
obscurity see you pass by in a blaze of glory, we con
sole ourselves for being so far below you by the thought
that our art has helped to raise you to the height whereon
you stand."

" 0 Monsieur ! " replied Colombe, covered with con
fusion, "your lovely things will probably be always
unfamiliar to me, or at least useless. I live in solitude
and obscurity, and so far is it from being the case that
the solitude and obscurity are oppressive to me, that I
confess that I love them, I confess that I would like to
live here always, and yet I also confess that I would like
well to see your jewels, not for myself but for them, —
not to wear them, but to admire them."

Trembling with fear lest she had said too much, and
perhaps with a longing to say even more, Colombe bowed
and left the room so swiftly, that to the eyes of a man
more knowing in such matters her exit would have worn
the aspect of a flight.

" Well, well ! " exclaimed Dame Perrine ; " that 's not
a long way from something like coquetry. There is no
doubt, young man, that you talk like a book. Yes, yes,
one can but believe that you Italians have secret means
of fascinating people. No stronger proof is needed than
this, — that you have enlisted me on your side at once,
and 'pon honor, I find myself wishing that Messire le
Prevot will not deal too hardly with you. Au revoir,
young man, and bid your master be on his guard. Warn
him that Messire d'Estourville is as hard of heart as the
devil, and wields great influence at court. For which
reason, if your master will take my advice, he will aban
den all thought of living at the Grand-Nesle, and espe
cially of taking forcible possession of it. As for you —
VOL. i. — 7

98 ASCANIO.

but we shall see you again, shall we not ? Above all, do
not believe Colombe ; the property of her deceased
mother is sufficient to enable her to indulge in baubles
twenty times more costly than those you offer her. And
look you, bring also some less elaborate articles ; it may
occur to her to make me a little present. I am not yet,
thank God ! so old that I need decline a little flirtation.
You understand, do you not ? "

Deeming it necessary, the better to make her meaning
clear, to enforce her words with a gesture, she laid her
hand upon the young man's arm. Ascanio jumped like
one suddenly awakened from a sound sleep. Indeed, it
seemed to him as if it were all a dream. He could not
realize that he was under Colombe's roof, and he doubted
whether the white apparition whose melodious voice
was still whispering in his ear, whose slender form had
just vanished from his sight, was really she for one
glance from whose eyes he would have given his life that
morning.

Overflowing with his present happiness and his fu
ture prospects, he promised Dame Perrine whatever she
wished, without even listening to what she asked him to
do. What mattered it to him 1 Was he not ready to
give all that he possessed to see Colombe once more?

Thinking that to prolong his visit would be unbecom
ing, he took leave of Dame Perrine, promising to return
the next day.

As he left the Petit-Nesle, Ascanio almost collided with
two men who were about to enter. By the way in which
one of them stared at him, even more than by his cos
tume, he felt sure that it was the provost.

His suspicion was changed to certainty when he saw
them knock at the same door by which he had just come
out, and he regretted that he had not sooner taken his

TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT. 99

leave ; for who could say that his imprudence would not
be visited upon Colombo ?

To negative the idea that his visit was of any impor
tance, assuming that the provost noticed it, Ascanio
walked away without once turning to look back toward
the only corner of the world of which he would at that
moment have cared to be king.

When he returned to the studio, he found Benvenuto
absorbed in thought. The man who stopped them in the
street was Primaticcio, and he was on his way, like the
honorable confrere he was, to inform Cellini that, during
the visit Francois I. paid him that morning, the impru
dent artist had succeeded in making a mortal enemy of
Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes.

100 ASCANIO.

VII

A LOVER AND A FRIEND

ONE of the two men who entered the Hotel de Nesle as
Ascanio emerged therefrom was indeed Messire Robert
d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. Who the other was we
shall learn in a moment.

Five minutes after Ascanio's departure, while Colombe
was still listening and dreaming in her bedroom, whither
she had fled, Dame Perrine hurriedly entered, and in
formed the young woman that her father was awaiting
her in the adjoining room.

" My father ! " cried Colombe in alarm. " Mon Dieu t
mon Dieu ! " she added in an undertone, " can it be that
he met him ? "

" Yes, your father, my dear child," rejoined Dame
Perrine, replying to the only portion of the sentence that
she heard, " and with him another old man whom I do not
know."

" Another old man ! " exclaimed Colombe, shuddering
instinctively. " Mon Dieu ! Dame Perrine, what does it
mean 1 It is the first time in two or three years that my
father has not come hither alone."

However, notwithstanding her alarm she could but
obey, knowing as she did her father's impatient disposi
tion, so she summoned all her courage and returned to
the room she had just left with a smile upon her lips.
Despite this feeling of dread, which she experienced for
the first time and could not explain, she loved Messire

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 101

d'Estourville as a daughter should love her father, and
although his demeanor toward her was far from expan
sive, the days on which he visited the Hotel de Nesle
were marked as red-letter days among the uniformly
gloomy days of her life.

Colombe went forward with outstretched arms and her
mouth half open, but the provost gave her no time either
to embrace him or to speak. He took her hand, and led
her to the stranger, who was leaning against the flower-
laden mantel.

" My dear friend," he said, " I present my daughter to
you. Colombe, " he added, " this is Comte d'Orbec, the
king's treasurer and your future husband."

Colombe uttered a feeble exclamation, which she at
once stifled, out of regard for the requirements of cour
tesy ; but feeling her knees giving way beneath her, she
leaned against the back of a chair for support.

Fully to understand the horror of this unexpected pre
sentation, especially in Colombo's then frame of mind,
it is necessary to know what manner of man this Comte
d'Orbec was.

Messire Robert d'Estourville, Colombe's father, was
certainly far from handsome ; there was in his bushy eye
brows, which he drew together at the least obstacle, phys
ical or moral, that he encountered, a savage expression,
and in his whole thickset figure something heavy and
awkward, which caused one to feel but slightly prepos
sessed in his favor ; but beside Comte d'Orbec he seemed
like Saint Michael the Archangel beside the dragon.
The square head and the strongly accentuated features of
the provost did at least indicate resolution and force of
character, while his small, piercing gray lynx eyes
denoted intelligence ; but Comte d'Orbec, lean and with
ered, with his long arms like spider's claws his mosquito-

102 ASCANIO.

like voice and his snail-like movements, was not only
ugly, he was absolutely hideous ; — it was the ugliness
of the beast and the villain in one. His head was car
ried on one side, and his face wore a villanous smile and
a treacherous expression.

So it was that Colombe, at the sight of this revolting
creature, who was presented to her as her future husband
when her heart and her thoughts and her eyes were still
filled with the comely youth who had just gone from that
very room, could not, as we have seen, wholly repress an
exclamation of dismay ; but her strength failed her, and
she stood there pale and speechless, gazing terror-stricken
into her father's face.

"I beseech you to pardon Colombe's confusion, dear
friend," the provost continued ; " in the first place, she is
a little barbarian, who has not been away from here these
two years past, the air of the time being not over healthy,
as you know, for attractive maids ; secondly, I have
made the mistake of not informing her of our plans,
which would have been time lost, however, since what
I have determined upon needs no person's approval before
being put in execution ; and lastly, she knows not who
you are, and that with your name, your great wealth, and
the favor of Madame d'Etampes, you are in a position
where everything is possible ; but upon reflection she will
appreciate the honor you confer upon us in consenting
to ally your ancient blood with our nobility of more
recent date ; she will learn that friends of forty years'
standing — "

" Enough, my dear fellow, enough, in God's name ! "
interposed the count. " Come, come, my child," he
added, addressing Colombe with familiar and insolent as
surance, which formed a striking contrast to poor Ascanio's
timidity, — " come, compose yourself and call back to your

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 103

cheeks a little of the lovely coloring that so becomes you.
Mon Dieu ! I know what a young girl is, you know,
and a young woman too for that matter, for I have al
ready been married twice, my dear. Good lack ! you
must not be disturbed like this : I don't frighten you, I
hope, eh ? " added the count fatuously, passing his fingers
through his scanty moustache and imperial. "Your
father did wrong to give me the title of husband so sud
denly, which always agitates a youthful heart a little when
it hears it for the first time ; but you will come to it, little
one, and will end by saying it yourself with that sweet
little mouth of yours. Well ! well ! you are growing
paler and paler, — God forgive me ! I believe she is
fainting."

As he spoke D'Orbec put out his arms to support her,
but she stood erect, and stepped back as if she feared his
touch no less than a serpent's, finding strength to utter a
few words : — •

" Pardon, monsieur, pardon, father," she faltered ; " for
give me, it is nothing ; but I thought, I hoped — "

" What did you think, what did you hope ? Come,
tell us quickly ! " rejoined the provost, fixing his sharp
eyes, snapping angrily, upon his daughter.

"That you would allow me to stay with you always,
father," replied Colombe. " Since my poor mother's
death, you have no one else to love you and care for you,
and I had thought — "

"Hold your peace, Colombe," retorted the provost
imperatively. "I am not old enough as yet to need a
keeper, and you have arrived at the proper age to have
an establishment of your own.

" Bon Dieu ! " interposed D'Orbeo, joining once more
in the conversation, " accept me without so much ado, my
love. With me you will be as happy as one can be, and

104 ASCANIO.

more than one will envy you, I swear. Mordieu ! I am
rich, and I propose that you shall be a credit to me ;
you shall go to court, and shall wear jewels that will
arouse the envy, I will not say of the queen, but of
Madame d'Etampes herself."

I know not what thoughts these last words awoke in
Colombo's heart, but the color returned to her cheeks,
and she made bold to answer the count, despite her
father's harsh and threatening glance : —

" I will ask my father, monseigneur, at least to give
me time to reflect upon your proposal."

" What 's that ? " cried Messire d'Estourville violently.
" Not an hour, not a minute. You are from this moment
the count's betrothed, understand that, and you would be
his wife this evening were it not that he is obliged to
pay a visit to his estates in Normandie, and you know that
my wishes are commands. Reflect indeed ! Sarpejeu !
D'Orbec, let us leave her ladyship. From this moment,
my friend, she is yours, and you may claim her when
you will. And now let us go and inspect your future
abode."

D'Orbec would have been glad to tarry and add a word
to what he had already said, but the provost passed his
arm through his, and led him away grumbling ; he con
tented himself therefore with saluting Colombo with his
wicked smile, and went out with Messire Robert.

Behind them Dame Perrine entered through another
door ; she had heard the provost speaking in a loud
voice, and guessed that he was as usual scolding his
daughter. She arrived in time to receive Colombe in her
arms.

" 0 mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! " sobbed the poor child,
putting her hand over her eyes as if to avoid the sight of
the odious D'Orbec, absent though he was. " 0 mon

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 105

Dieu ! is this to be the end ? 0 my golden dreams !
0 my poor hopes ! All is lost, and naught remains for
me but to die ! "

We need not ask if this lament, added to Colombe's
weakness and pallor, terrified Dame Perrine, and at the
same time aroused her curiosity. As Colombe sadly
needed to relieve her overburdened heart, she described
to her worthy governess, weeping the while the bitterest
tears she had ever shed, the interview between her father,
Comte d'Orbec, and herself. Dame Perrine agreed that
the suitor was not young or handsome, but as the worst
misfortune, in her opinion, that could happen to a woman
was to remain single, she insisted that it was better, when
all was said, to have an old and ugly, but wealthy and
influential husband, than none at all. But this doctrine
was so offensive to Colombe's heart, that she withdrew to
her own room, leaving Dame Perrine, whose imagination
was most active, to build innumerable castles in the air
in anticipation of the day when she should rise from the
rank of Mademoiselle Colombe's governess to that of
Comtesse d'Orbec's dame de compagnie.

Meanwhile the provost and the count were beginning
their tour of inspection of the Grand-Nesle, as Dame
Perrine and Ascanio had done an hour earlier.

Curious results would follow if walls, which are com
monly supposed to have ears, had also eyes and a tongue,
and could repeat to those who enter what they have seen
and heard on the part of those who have gone before.

But as the walls held their peace, and simply looked
at the provost and the treasurer, laughing perhaps, after
the manner of walls, it was the treasurer who spoke.

" On my word," he said, as they crossed the courtyard
leading from the Petit to the Grand-Nesle, " on my word,
the little one will do very well; she is just such a

106 ASCANIO.

woman as I need, my dear D'Estourville, virtuous, well-
bred, and ignorant. When the first storm has passed
over, time will straighten out everything, believe me.
I know how it is ; every little girl dreams of a young,
handsome, clever, and wealthy husband. Mon Dieu ! I
have at least half of the requisite qualities. Few men
can say as much, so that's a great point in my favor."
Passing from his future wife to the property he was to
occupy, and speaking with the same shrill, greedy accent
of the one as of the other, "This old Nesle," he con
tinued, " is a magnificent habitation, on my honor ! and I
congratulate you upon it. We shall be marvellously
comfortable here, my wife and I, and my whole treasury.
Here we will have our own apartments, there will be my
offices, and over yonder the servants' quarters. The
place as a whole has been allowed to run to seed. But
with the expenditure of a little money, which we will
find a way to make his Majesty pay, we will give a good
account of ourselves. By the way, D'Estourville, are
you perfectly sure of retaining the property 1 You should
take steps to perfect your title to it; so far as I now re
member, the king did not give it you, after all."

" He did not give it me, true," replied the provost with
a laugh, " but he let me take it, which is much the same
thing."

" Very good ; but suppose that some other should
play you the trick of making a formal request for it from
him."

" Ah ! such a one would be very ill received, I prom
ise you, when he should come to take possession, and,
being sure as I am of Madame d'Etampes's support and
yours, I would make him sorely repent his pretensions.
No, no, my dear fellow, my mind is at ease, and the
Hotel de Nesle belongs to me as truly as my daughter

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 107

Colombe belongs to you ; go, therefore, without fear on
that score, and return quickly."

As the provost uttered these words, the truth of which
neither he nor his interlocutor had any reason to doubt,
a third personage, escorted by Raimbault the gardener,
appeared upon the threshold of the door leading from
the quadrangular courtyard into the gardens of the Petit-
Xesle. It was the Vicomte de Marmagne.

He also was a suitor for Colombe's hand, but by no
means a favored one. He was a fair-haired scamp, with
a pink face, consequential, insolent, garrulous, forever
boasting of his relations with women, who often used
him as a cloak for their serious amours, overflowing with
pride in his post of secretary to the king, which permitted
him to approach his Majesty in the same way in which
his greyhounds and parrots and monkeys approached him.
The provost, therefore, was not deceived by his apparent
favor and the superficial familiarity of his relations with
his Majesty, which favor and familiarity he owed, so it
was said, to his decidedly unmoral additions to the duties
of his post. Furthermore, the Vicomte de Marmagne
had long since devoured all his patrimony, and had no
other fortune than the liberality of Frangois. Now it
might happen any day that this liberal disposition would
cease, so far as he was concerned, and Messire Robert
d'Estourville was not fool enough to rely, in matters of
such importance, upon the caprice of a very capricious
monarch. He had therefore gently denied the suit of
the Vicomte de Marmagne, admitting to him confiden
tially and under the seal of secrecy that his daughter's
hand had long been promised to another. Thanks to
this confidential communication, which supplied a motive
for the provost's refusal, the Vicomte de Marmagne and
Messire Robert d'Estourville had continued to be in ap-

108 ASCANIO.

pearance the best friends in the world, although from
that day the viscount detested the provost, and the pro
vost was suspicious of the viscount, who could not suc
ceed in concealing his rancor beneath an affable and
smiling exterior from a man so accustomed as Messire
Kobert to peer into the dark corners of courts, and the
deepest depths of men's hearts. So it was that, whenever
the viscount made his appearance, the provost expected
to find in him, notwithstanding his invariably affable
and engaging demeanor, a bearer of bad news, which he
would always impart with tears in his eyes, and with the
feigned, premeditated grief which squeezes out poison
upon a wound, drop by drop.

As for Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de Marmagne had
wellnigh come to an open rupture with him ; it was
one of the rare instances of court enmities visible to the
naked eye. D'Orbec despised Marmagne, because Mar
magne had no fortune and could make no display. Mar
magne despised D'Orbec, because D'Orbec was old and
had consequently lost the power of making himself
agreeable to women ; in fine, they mutually detested
each other, because, whenever they met upon the same
path, one of them had taken something from the
other.

So it was that when they met on this occasion the two
courtiers greeted each other with that cold, sardonic
smile which is never seen save in palace antechambers,
and which means, " Ah ! if we were n't a pair of cowards,
how long ago one of us would have ceased to live ! "

Nevertheless, as it is the historian's duty to set down
everything, good and bad alike, it is proper to state that
they confined themselves to this salutation and this
smile, and that Comte d'Orbec, escorted by the provost,
and without exchanging a word wityi Marmagne, left the

A LOVER AND A FEIEND. 109

house immediately by the same door by which his enemy
entered.

Let us hasten to add, that, notwithstanding the hatred
which kept them asunder, these two men were ready, in
case of need, to unite temporarily to destroy a third.

Comte d'Orbec having taken his leave, the provost
found himself tete-a-tete with the Vicomte de Marmagne.
He walked toward him with a joyous countenance, in
striking contrast to the melancholy visage with which the
other awaited him.

" Well, my dear provost," said Marmagne, to open the
conversation, " you seem in extremely good spirits."

" While you, my dear Marmagne," rejoined the pro
vost, "seem sadly depressed."

" Simply because, as you know, my poor D'Estourville,
my friends' misfortunes afflict me as keenly as my own."

" Yes, yes, I know your heart," said the provost.

" And when I saw you in such a joyous mood, with
your future son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec, — for your daugh
ter's betrothal to him is no longer a secret, and I con
gratulate you upon it, my dear D'Estourville — "

" You know that I told you long ago that Colombe's
hand was promised, my dear Marmagne."

" Yes, but, 'pon honor, I cannot understand how you
can consent to part from such a fascinating child."

" Oh ! I do not propose to part from her," replied Mes-
sire Eobert. " My son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec, will bring
his whole establishment across the Seine, and will take
up his abode at the Grand-Nesle, while I shall spend my
unoccupied moments at the Petit."

" My poor friend ! " exclaimed Marmagne, shaking his
head with an air of profound sadness, and placing one
hand upon the provost's arm while with the other he
wiped away a tear which did not exist.

110 ASCANIO.

" Why ' poor friend ' ? " demanded Messire Robert.
" Come ! what have you to tell me now 1 "

"Am I the first, pray, to tell you the unpleasant
news?"

" What is it ? Speak out ! "

"You know, my dear provost, that we must take
things philosophically in this world, and there is an old
proverb which we poor weak mortals should keep con
stantly in mind, for it sums up the accumulated wisdom
of all nations."

" What is the proverb ? Say what you have to say."

"Man proposes, my dear friend, man proposes, and
God disposes."

" In God's name, what have I proposed for him to dis
pose of ? Say on, I beg you, and let us have done with it."

"You have intended the Grand-Nesle for the resi
dence of your daughter and son-in-law?"

" Most assuredly ; and I trust that they will be in
stalled there within three months."

" Undeceive yourself, my dear provost, undeceive your
self ; the Hotel de Nesle is no longer your property at
this moment. Pardon me for afflicting you thus, but I
thought, knowing your somewhat hasty nature, that it
would be better for you to learn the news from the
mouth of a friend, who would spare your feelings in the
telling as much as possible, rather than from some mali
cious fellow, who would take a keen delight in your mis
fortune, and brutally cast it in your face. Alas ! no, my
friend, the Grand-Nesle is yours no longer."

" Who has taken it from me, I pray to know ? "

" His Majesty."

"His Majesty!"

" Himself, so you see that the disaster is irreparable."

" When was it done ? "

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. Ill

"This morning. If I had not been detained by my
duties at the Louvre, you would have been soonerapprised
of it."

" You are mistaken, Marmagne ; it 's some false report
set afloat by my enemies, and which you are in too great
haste to repeat."

" I would be glad for many reasons if it were so, but
unfortunately I was not told of it ; I heard it."

"You heard it? what?"

" I heard the king with his own mouth present the
Grand-Nesle to another."

" Who is this other 1 "

"An Italian adventurer, a paltry goldsmith, whose
name you perhaps have heard ; an intriguing rascal
named Benvenuto Cellini, who came from Florence some
two months since, whom the king has taken upon his
shoulders for some unknown reason, and to whom he
paid a visit to-day with his whole court at the Cardinal
of Ferrara's hotel, where this pretended artist has estab
lished his studio."

" And you say that you were present, viscount, when
the king presented the Grand-Nesle to this wretch ? "

" I was," replied Marmagne, pronouncing the words
very slowly and distinctly, and dwelling upon them with
evident relish.

" Oho ! " said the provost, " very good ! I am ready
for your adventurer : let him come and take possession
of his royal gift."

" Do you mean that you would offer resistance ? "

" To be sure ! "

" To an order of the king ? "

" To an order of God or the devil, — to any order, in
short, which should undertake to eject me from this
place."

112 ASCANIO.

" Softly, provost, softly," said Marmagne, " over and
above the king's wrath, to which you expose yourself,
this Benvenuto Cellini is in himself more to be feared
than you think."

"Do you know who I am, viscount?"

" First of all, he stands very high in his Majesty's
good graces, — only for the moment, to be sure, — but it
is none the less true."

" Do you know that I, the Provost of Paris, represent
his Majesty at the Ch&telet, that I sit there beneath a
canopy, in a short coat and a cloak with a collar, with my
sword at my side, a hat with waving plumes on my head,
and in my hand a staff covered with blue velvet ? "

"Secondly, I will tell you that this accursed Italian
makes no scruple of offering combat, as if he stood on
equal terms with them, to princes, cardinals, and popes."

" Do you know that I have a private seal which im
parts the fullest authority to those documents to which it
is affixed?"

" It is said, furthermore, that the damned bully wounds
or kills recklessly every one who ventures to oppose him."

" Do you not know that a body guard of twenty-four
men-atrarms is at my orders night and day ? "

" They say that he attacked a goldsmith against whom
he had a grudge, although he was surrounded by a guard
of sixty men."

" You forget that the Hotel de Nesle is fortified, that
the walls are crenellated, and there are machicoulis above
the doors, to say nothing of the city fortifications which
render it impregnable on one side."

"It is said that he is as thoroughly at home in the
science of sieges as Bayard or Antonio de Leyra."

" As to that we shall see."

"I am sorely afraid."

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 113

" I will bide my time."

" Look you, my dear friend, will you allow me to offer
you a little advice ? "

" Say on, so that it be brief."

"Do not try to struggle with one who is stronger than
you."

" Stronger than I, a paltry Italian mechanic ! Vis
count, you exasperate me ! "

" You may find reason to repent, 'pon honor ! I speak
whereof I know."

" Viscount, you try my temper."

" Consider that the fellow has the king on his side."

" And I have Madame d'Etampes."

" His Majesty may take it ill of you to resist his
will."

" I have already done it, Monsieur, and successfully."

"Yes, I know, in the matter of the toll at the bridge
of Mantes. But — "

" But what ? "

" One risks nothing, or very little at all events, in
resisting a weak, good-natured king, while one risks
everything in entering into a contest with a powerful,
formidable opponent like Benvenuto Cellini."

"By Mahomet's belly, Viscount, do you propose to
drive me mad ? "

" On the contrary, my purpose is to make you dis
creet."

" Enough, Viscount, enough ! Ah ! the villain shall
pay dear, I swear, for these moments that your friendship
has caused me to pass."

" God grant it, Provost ! God grant it ! "

" Very good, very good ! You have nothing else to
tell me ? "

" No, no, I believe not," the viscount replied, as if he
VOL. i — 8

114 ASCANIO.

were trying to recall some item of news which would
make a fitting pendant to the other.

" Very well, adieu ! " cried the provost.

" Adieu, my poor friend ! "

" Adieu ! "

" At all events I have given you warning."

"Adieu!"

" I shall have no reason to reproach myself : that con
soles me."

"Adieu! adieu!"

" Good luck attend you ! But I must say that I
express that wish with but little hope of its being
gratified."

" Adieu ! adieu ! adieu ! "

" Adieu ! "

And the Vicomte de Marmagne, sighing as if his heart
woxild burst, and with grief-stricken face, took his de
parture, gesticulating mournfully, after he had pressed
the provost's hand as if he were saying farewell to him
forever.

The provost followed him, and with his own hands
secured the street door behind him.

It will readily be understood that this friendly conver
sation had heated Messire d'Estourville's blood and stirred
his bile to an extreme degree. He was looking around
in search of some one upon whom he might vent his ill-
hurnor, when he suddenly remembered the young man
whom he had seen emerging from the Gnind-Nesle as he
entered with Comte d'Orbec. As Eaimbault was at
hand he had not far to seek for one who could answer
his questions touching that stranger, so he summoned the
gardener with one of those imperative gestures which
admit no delay, and asked him what he knew about the
young man.

A LOVER AND A FRIEND. 115

The gardener replied that the individual to whom his
master referred had presented himself in the king's name,
to inspect the Grand-Nesle ; that he did not consider it
his duty to take anything upon himself, and therefore
referred him to Dame Perrine, who good-naturedly
showed him over the whole establishment.

The provost thereupon rushed to the Petit-Nesle to
demand an explanation from the worthy duenna, but
she unfortunately had just gone out to purchase the
weekly supply of provisions.

There remained Colombe, but as the provost could not
believe that she had seen the youthful stranger, after the
forcible and explicit terms in which he had forbidden
Dame Perrine to allow good-looking young men to ap
proach her, he did not even speak to her on the subject.

As his duties required him to return to the Grand-
Chatelet, he departed, ordering Raimbault, on pain of
instant dismissal, to admit no person to the Grand or
Petit-Nesle, whoever he might be, or in whosesoever
name he might come, especially the miserable adventurer
who had been admitted previously.

So it was that, when Ascanio presented himself on the
following day with his wares, in accordance with Dame
Perrine's suggestion, Raimbault simply opened a small
window, and informed him through the bars that the
Hotel de Nesle was closed to everybody, particularly to
him.

Ascanio, as may be imagined, withdrew in despair ;
but we hasten to say that he did not for a moment attrib
ute this extraordinary reception to Colombe ; the maiden
had bestowed but one glance upon him, had uttered but
one sentence, but that glance was so eloquent of shy
affection, and there was such a wealth of loving melody
in that one sentence, that it had seemed to Asuanio since

116 ASCANIO.

he parted from her as if an angel's voice were singing in
his heart.

He fancied therefore, and with good reason, that, as he
had been seen by the provost, the provost was the author
of that terrible order of which he was the victim.

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 117

VIII.

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE.

ASCANIO had no sooner returned to the studio on the
previous day, and made his report to Benvenuto touching
that part of his expedition which related to the topog
raphy of the Hotel de Nesle, than the goldsmith, seeing
that it met his requirements in every respect, hastened
to the bureau of Seigneur de Neuf ville, the first secretary
of the king's treasury, to obtain from him documentary
evidence of the royal gift. Seigneur de Neufville de
manded until the following day to assure himself of the
validity of Master Benvenuto's claims, and, although the
latter considered him extremely impertinent to refuse to
take his word for it, he realized the reasonableness of the
demand, and assented, resolved however not to allow Mes-
sire de Neufville a half-hour's grace on the following day.

He was punctual to the minute, and was at once
admitted to the secretary's presence, which he considered
a favorable augury.

" Well, Monseigneur," he said, " is the Italian a liar,
or did he tell you the truth ? "

" The whole truth, my dear friend."

"That is very fortunate."

" And the king has ordered me to hand you a deed of
gift in proper form."

" It will be welcome."

" And yet — " continued the secretary, hesitatingly.

118 ASCANIO.

" Well, what more is there ? Let us hear."

" And yet if you would allow me to offer you some
good advice — "

" Good advice ! the devil ! that 's a rare article, Mon
sieur le Secretaire ; say on, say on."

" I should advise you to seek another location for your
studio than the Grand-Nesle."

" Indeed ! " retorted Benvenuto dryly ; " think you
that it is not a convenient location 1 "

11 It is, indeed ; and truth compels me to state that you
would have great difficulty in finding a better."

" Very well, what is the matter then?"

" That it belongs to a personage of too much impor -
tance for you to come in collision with him without
danger."

"I myself helong to the noble King of France," re
joined Cellini, " and I shall never flinch so long as I act
in his name."

"Very good, but in our country, Master Benvenuto,
every nobleman is king in his own house, and in seeking
to eject the provost from the house which he occupies
you risk your life."

" We must all die sooner or later," was Cellini's sen
tentious reply.

" You are determined, then — "

" To kill the devil before the devil kills me. Trust me
for that, Monsieur le Secretaire. Let the provost look
well to himself, as all those must do who assume to
oppose the king's wishes, especially when Master Ben
venuto Cellini has it in charge to carry them out."

Thereupon Messire Nicolas de Neufville made an end
of his philanthropic observations, but alleged all sorts of
formalities to be complied with before delivering the
deed. But Benvenuto tranquilly seated himself, declar-

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 119

ing that he would not stir until the document was placed
in his hands, and that he was determined to stay the
night there, if necessary, having foreseen that possibility,
and taken the precaution to say to his people that he
might not return.

Taking note of this determination, Messire Nicolas de
Neufville, regardless of consequences, delivered the deed
of gift to Benvenuto Cellini, taking pains, however, to
advise Messire Robert d'Estourville of what he had been
compelled to do, in part by the king's will, in part by the
goldsmith's persistence.

Benvenuto returned to his domicile without saying
anything to anybody of what he had done, locked up
the deed in the drawer in which he kept his precious
stones, and calmly resumed his work.

The information transmitted to the provost by the
secretary convinced Messire Robert that Benvenuto, as
the Vicomte de Marmagne had said that he would do,
persisted in his purpose to take possession of the Hotel
de Nesle, peaceably or by force. The provost, therefore,
prepared to maintain his rights, sent for his twentj'-four
sergeants-at-arms, posted sentinels upon the walls, and
went to the Chatelet only when the duties of his office
absolutely compelled him to do so.

Days passed, however, and Cellini, tranquilly occupied
with the work he had in hand, made not the least
demonstration. But the provost felt certain that this
apparent tranquillity was only a ruse, and that his foe
proposed to wait until he had grown weary of watching,
and then take him unawares. And so Messire Robert,
with eyes and ears always on the alert, his mind always
in a state of extreme tension, and engrossed with warlike
thoughts, was finally reduced by this condition of affairs,
which was neither peace nor war, to a state of feverish

120 ASCANIO.

expectation and anxiety, which threatened, if it were
prolonged, to make him as mad as the governor of the
Castle of San Angelo. He could not eat or sleep, and
grew perceptibly thinner.

From time to time he would abruptly draw his sword
and begin to make passes at a wall, shouting : —

" Let him come on ! let him come on, the villain ! Let
him come on, I am ready for him ! "

But Benvenuto did not come on.

D'Estourville had his calmer moments, too, during
which he would succeed in persuading himself that the
goldsmith's tongue was longer than his sword, and that
he would never dare to carry out his damnable schemes.
It was at one of these moments that Colombe, happening
to come out of her room, observed all the warlike prepa
rations, and asked her father what was the occasion of
them.

" A scoundrel to be chastised, that 's all," the provost
replied.

As it was the provost's business to chastise, Colombe
did not even ask who the scoundrel was whose chastise
ment was preparing, being too deeply preoccupied with
her own thoughts not to be content with this brief
explanation.

In very truth, Messire Eobert with a single word
had made a fearful change in his daughter's life ; that
life, hitherto so calm, so simple, so obscure and secluded,
that life of peaceful days and tranquil nights, was like a
lake whose surface is suddenly ruffled by a tempest.
She had felt at times before that her soul was sleeping,
that her heart was empty, but she thought that her soli
tude was the cause of her melancholy, and attributed the
emptiness of her heart to the fact that she had lost her
mother in her infancy. And now, without warning, her

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 121

existence, her thoughts, her heart and her soul were filled
to overflowing, but with grief.

Ah ! how she then sighed for the days of ignorance
and tranquillity, .when the commonplace but watchful
friendship of Dame Perrine was almost sufficient for her
happiness; the days of hope and faith, when she reck
oned upon the future as one reckons upon a friend ; the
days of filial trust and confidence, when she believed in
the affection of her father. Alas ! her future now was
the hateful love of Comte d'Orbec ; her father's affection
was simply ambition so disguised. Why, instead of being
the only inheritor of a noble name and vast fortune, was
she not the child of some obscure bourgeois of the city,
who would have cared for and cherished her 1 In that
case she might have fallef in with this young artist, in
whose speech there was so much to move and fascinate,
this handsome Ascanio, who seemed to have such a
wealth of happiness and love to bestow.

But when the rapid beating of her heart and her
flushed cheeks warned her that the stranger's image had
filled her thoughts too long, she condemned herself to the
task of banishing the lovely dream, and succeeded in
placing before her eyes the desolating reality. Since her
father had made known to her his matrimonial plans,
she had expressly forbidden Dame Perrine to receive
Ascanio, upon one pretext or another, threatening to tell
her father everything if she disobeyed; and as the
governess, fearing to be accused of complicity with him,
had said nothing of the hostile projects of Ascanio's
master, poor Colombo believed herself to be well pro
tected in that direction;

It must not be supposed, however, that the sweet-
natured child was resigned to the idea of obeying her
father's commands. No ; her whole being revolted at

122 ASCANIO.

the thought of an alliance with this man, whom she
would have hated had she really known what hate
was. Beneath her beautiful, pale brow she revolved a
thousand thoughts, hitherto unknown to her mind, —
thoughts of revolt and rebellion, which she looked upon
almost as crimes, and for which she asked God's for
giveness upon her knees. Then it occurred to her to go
and throw herself at the king's feet. But she had heard
it whispered that the same idea had occurred to Diane de
Poitiers under much more terrible circumstances, and
that she left her honor there. Madame d'Etampes might
protect her too, if she chose. But would she choose 1
Would she not greet the complaints of a mere child with
a contemptuous smile ? Such a smile of mockery and
contempt she had seen upon her father's lips when she
begged him to keep her with him, and it made a terrible
impression upon her.

Thus Colombo had no refuge but God : and she knelt
before her prie-Dieu a hundred times a day, imploring
the Omnipotent to send succor to her weakness before
the end of the three months which still separated her
from her formidable fiance, or, if she could hope for no
relief on earth, to allow her at least to join her mother
in heaven.

Ascanio's existence, meanwhile, was no less troublous
and unhappy than that of his beloved. Twenty times
since Raimbault had made known to him the order which
forbade his admission to the Hotel de Nesle had he
loitered dreaming about the lofty walls which separated
him from his life, — in the morning before anybody had
risen, and at night after everybody was asleep. But not
once, either openly or furtively, did he try to make his
way into the forbidden garden. He still had that vir
ginal respect of early youth, which protects the woman

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 123

whom one loves against the very passion which she may
have to fear at a later period.

But this did not prevent Ascanio, as he worked away
at his carving and chasing, from indulging in many an
extravagant dream, to say nothing of those he dreamed
in his morning and evening promenades, or during his
troubled sleep at night. These dreams were concerned
more especially with the day, at first so much dreaded,
now so eagerly desired by him, when Benvenuto should
assume possession of the Hotel de Nesle ; for Ascanio
knew his master, and that all this apparent tranquillity
was that of a volcano breeding an eruption. Cellini had
given out that the eruption would take place or the
following Sunday. Ascanio had no doubt, therefore,
that on the following Sunday Cellini's undertaking would
be accomplished.

But so far as he was able to judge in his walks around
the Se'jour de Nesle, the undertaking would not be
accomplished without some difficulty, thanks to the
guard which was constantly maintained upon the walls ;
and Ascanio had observed about the hotel all the indica
tions of a fortified post. If there should be an attack,
there would be a defence ; and as the fortress seemed
little disposed to capitulate, it was clear that it must be
taken by assault. It was at that decisive moment that
Ascanio's chivalrous nature might expect to find an
opportunity to display itself. There would be a battle,
there would be a breach in the walls to carry, and per
haps there would be a conflagration. Ah ! something of
that sort was what he longed for ! a conflagration most
of all, — a conflagration whereby Colombe's life would be
endangered ! Then he would dart up the tottering stair
cases, among the burning rafters, and over the crumbling
walls. He would hear her voice calling for help; he

124 ASCANIO.

would seek her out, take her in his arms, dying and
almost unconscious, and bear her away to safety through
the roaring sea of flame, her heart against his, and inhal
ing her breath. Then, having brought her safely
through a thousand dangers, he would lay her at the
feet of her despairing father, who would reward his
gallant conduct by giving her to the man who had saved
her life. Or else, as he bore her in his arms over a frail
plank thrown across the flaming chasm, his foot would
slip, and they would fall together and die in each other's
arms, their hearts blending in one last sigh, in a first and
last kiss. This latter alternative was not to be despised
by one who had so little hope in his heart as Ascanio ;
for next to the felicity of living for each other, the
greatest happiness is to die together.

Thus it will be seen that all our friends were passing
through some very agitated days and nights, with the
exception of Benvenuto Cellini, who seemed entirely to
have forgotten his hostile designs upon the Hotel de
Nesle, and of Scozzone, who knew nothing of them.

The whole week passed away thus, and Benvenuto
Cellini, having worked conscientiously throughout the
six days that composed it, and having almost completed
the clay model of his Jupiter, donned his coat of mail on
the Saturday about five o'clock, buttoned his doublet
over it, and, bidding Ascanio accompany him, bent his
steps toward the Hotel de Nesle. "When they reached
the spot, Cellini made the circuit of the walls, spying out
the weak spots, and meditating his plan of siege.

The attack offered more than one difficulty, as the
provost had said to his friend Marmagne, as Ascanio had
informed his master, and as Benvenuto was now able to
see for himself. The Chateau de Nesle was crenellated
and machicolated, was defended by a double wall on the

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 125

river side, and furthermore by the city moats and ram
parts on the side of the Pr^-aux-Clercs. It was one of
those massive and imposing feudal structures, which
were equal to the task of defending themselves by their
mass alone, provided that the doors were securely fas
tened, and of repelling without outside assistance the
assaults of tirelaines and larroneurs, as they were called
in those days, or of the king's men, if need were. This
was often the case at that interesting epoch, when one
was generally compelled to do police duty for himself.

Having made his reconnoissance according to all the
ancient and modern rules of strategy, and deeming it to
be his duty to summon the place to surrender before
laying siege to it, he knocked at the little door by which
Ascanio had once entered. For him as for Ascanio the
small window opened ; but it was the martial counte
nance of an archer, instead of that of the pacific gardener,
which appeared in the opening.

" What do you want ? " the archer demanded of the
stranger who dared to knock at the door of the Hotel de
Nesle.

" To take possession of the hotel, which has been
given to me, Benvenuto Cellini," replied the goldsmith.

" Very good, — wait," rejoined the fellow, and he went
at once to notify Messire d'Estourville, as he had been
ordered to do.

A moment later he returned, accompanied by the pro
vost, who did not show himself, but stood listening, with
bated breath, in a corner, surrounded by part of his
garrison, in order to judge the better of the gravity of
the affair.

" We do not know what you mean," said the archer.

" If that be so," said Cellini, " hand this document to
Messire le Prevot ; it is a certified copy of the deed

126 ASCANIO.

of gift." And he passed the parchment through the
window.

The sergeant disappeared a second time ; but as he
had simply to put out his hand to hand the copy to the
provost, the window opened again almost immediately.

" Here is his answer," said the sergeant, passing through
the bars the parchment torn in pieces.

" Very good," rejoined Cellini with perfect tranquillity.
" Au revoir."

He returned to his studio, highly gratified by the
attention with which Ascanio had followed his scrutiny
of the place, and the young man's judicious suggestions
as to the coup de main they were to attempt at some
time ; and he assured his pupil that he would have made
a distinguished general, were it not that he was destined
to become a still more distinguished artist, which, in
Cellini's view, was infinitely preferable.

The next morning the sun rose in all his glory ; Ben-
venuto had requested his workmen to come to the studio,
although it was Sunday, and not one of them failed to
appear.

"My children," said the master, "it is undoubtedly
true that I engaged you to work at the goldsmith's trade,
and not to fight. But during the two months that we
have been together we have learned to know one another
so well that, in a serious emergency, I feel that I can
count upon you, as you all and always can count upon
me. You know what I have in contemplation : we are
but poorly accommodated here, with but little air and little
space, and our elbows are too cramped to allow us to
undertake great works, or even to use the forge with any
degree of vigor. The king, in the presence of you all,
deigned to bestow upon me a larger and more commo
dious abode; but, as he has no leisure to bestow upon

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 127

trifling details, he left it to me to install myself therein.
Now, the present possessor does not choose to give over
to me this property which his Majesty has so generously
presented to me ; therefore we must take it. The Pro
vost of Paris, who retains possession in the face of his
Majesty's order, (it would seem, that such things are of
common occurrence in this land,) does not know the man
with whom he has to do ; as soon as I am refused, I
demand ; as soon as I am resisted, I take by force. Are
you disposed to assist me 1 I do not conceal from you
that there will be danger in so doing : there is a battle to
be fought, there are walls to be scaled, and other harm
less amusements to be indulged in. There is nothing to
fear from the police or the patrol, because we act by his
Majesty's authority ; but it may mean death, my chil
dren. Therefore, let those who wish to go elsewhere do
so without hesitation, let those who wish to remain here
not be ashamed to say as much ; I ask for none but bold
and resolute hearts. If you leave me to go alone with
Pagolo and Ascanio, have no fear on our behalf. I know
not how I shall go to work ; but I do know this, that I
will not be disappointed for that. But, by the blood of
Christ ! if you lend me your hearts and your arms, as I
hope you will, woe to the provost and the provostry.
Now that you are fully instructed in the matter, speak :
will you follow me ? "

They all shouted with one voice : —

" Anywhere, master ; wherever you choose to lead us ! "

" Bravo, my children ! Then you are all in for the
sport ] "

" All ! "

" Then let the tempest howl ! " cried Benvenuto ; " at
last we are to have a little diversion. I have been rusty
long enough. Up, up, brave hearts and swords 1 Ah !

128 ASCANIO.

thank God ! we are soon to give and receive a few lusty
blows ! Look you, my dear boys, look you, my gallant
friends, we must arm ourselves, we must agree upon a
plan ; let them be ready to look to themselves, and vive
la joie ! I will give you all that I possess in the way of
weapons, offensive and defensive, in addition to those
that are hanging on the wall, where every one can choose
at will. Ah ! what we really need is a good culverin :
but there's its value in arquebuses, hackbuts, pikes,
swords, and daggers ; and there are coats of mail galore,
and cuirasses and helmets. Come, haste, haste, and let us
dress for the ball ! the provost shall pay for the music 1 "

" Hurrah ! " cried all his companions.

Thereupon the studio was the scene of a commotion, a
tumult, wonderful to look upon ; the verve and enthu
siasm of the master infected every heart and every face.
They tried on cuirasses, brandished swords, tested the
point of daggers, laughed and sang, as if a masquerade or
festival of some sort were in progress. Benvenuto ran
hither and thither, handing a boot to this one, buckling
the belt of another, and feeling the blood course hotly
and freely through his veins, as if this were the life he
truly loved.

The workmen meanwhile indulged in jokes at one
another's expense, commenting freely upon the bellicose
demeanor and awkward attitudes of their fellows.

"Look, master ! " cried one of them ; " look at Sinion-
le-Gaucher,1 putting his sword on the same side as we !
On the right, man ! on the right 1 "

" See Jehan," retorted Simon, " holding his halberd
as he '11 hold his cross when he 's a bishop ! "

" There 's Pagolo putting on a double coat of mail 1 "
said Jehan.

1 Left-handed.

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 129

" Why not ? " replied Pagolo. " Hermann the German
is arraying himself like a knight in the days of the
Emperor Barbarossa ! "

In fact, the youth referred to by the appellation of
Hermann the German (a somewhat pleonastic title, as
his name alone was so distinctively Germanic in sound
as to indicate that its owner belonged to some one of the
circles of the Holy Empire), — Hermann, we say, had cov
ered himself from head to foot with iron, and resembled
one of the gigantic statues which' the sculptors of that
artistic age were accustomed to carve upon tombs.

Benvenuto, although the physical strength of this re
doubtable comrade from beyond the Rhine had become
proverbial in the studio, remarked that he would be
likely to experience some difficulty in moving, being so
completely encased, and that his usefulness would cer
tainly be lessened rather than increased. Hermann's
only reply was to leap upon a table as lightly as if he
were clad in velvet, take down an enormous hammer,
wave it around his head, and strike the anvil three such
terrific blows that each of them drove it an inch into the
ground. There was nothing to say to such a reply ; so
Benvenuto waved his hand and nodded his head respect
fully in token of satisfaction.

Ascanio alone made his toilet apart from the others.
He could not avoid a feeling of uneasiness as to the
results of the enterprise upon which they were about to
embark ; for it might well be that Colombo would not
forgive him for attacking her father, especially if the
struggle should lead to some grave catastrophe, and he
would find himself farther removed from her heart,
although nearer to her eyes.

Scozzone, half joyous, half anxious, wept one moment
and laughed the next. The change of location and the

VOL. I. — 9

130 ASCANIO.

prospect of a battle were by no means unpleasing to her,
but as for blows and wounds, that was another matter ;
the preparations for the combat made the frolicsome
creature dance for joy, but its possible results made the
woman that was in her tremble.

Benvenuto at last noticed her, smiling and weeping at
the same 'time, and he went to her side.

" Thou wilt remain here, Scozzone, with Ruperta," he
said, " and prepare lint for the wounded, and a good
dinner for those who come safely through it."

" Oh no, no ! " cried Scozzone ; " oh pray let me go
with you ! With you I have courage enough to defy
the provost and all his myrmidons, but alone here with
Ruperta I should die of anxiety and fear."

"Oh, I could never consent to that," replied Ben
venuto ; " it would trouble me too much to think that
some mishap might befall thee. Thou wilt pray for us,
dear child, while awaiting our return."

" Listen, Benvenuto," rejoined the maiden, as if struck
by a sudden thought, " you understand, of course, that I
cannot endure the thought of remaining quiet here while
you are fighting yonder, wounded, perhaps dying. But
there is a way of satisfying both of us ; instead of pray
ing for your safety here in the studio, I will go and pray
in the church nearest to the spot. In that way I shall
be out of danger, and shall know the result immediately,
whether it be a victory or a defeat."

" Very well, so be it," replied Benvenuto ; " it is
understood, of course, that we shall not go forth to kill
others, or to be killed ourselves, without first fulfilling
the pious duty of listening to mass. We will go together
to the church of the Grands Augustins, which is nearer
than any other to the H6tel de Nesle, and will leave thee
there, little one."

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 131

These arrangements determined upon, and the prepa
rations for the affray at an end, they drank a glass of
Burgundy to the success of their enterprise. To their
weapons, offensive and defensive, they added hammers,
tongs, ladders, and ropes, and left the studio, not after
the manner of an army corps, but two by two, at suffi
ciently long intervals not to attract attention. It was
not that a coup de main was a more unfrequent occur
rence in those days than an emeute or a change of min
istry in these days of ours ; but, truth to say, it was not
customary to select the Sabbath day, or the hour of noon,
for this sort of diversion, and it required all Benvenuto's
audacity, reinforced by his consciousness that right was
on his side, to venture upon such an undertaking.

One after another our heroes arrived at the Grands
Augustins, and, having given their weapons and tools into
the charge of the sacristan, who was a friend of Simon-
le-Gaucher, they entered the church to listen devoutly
to the blessed sacrifice of the mass, and to implore God's
help in exterminating as many archers as possible.

Truth compels us to state, however, that despite the
gravity of the impending crisis, despite his exemplary
piety, and despite the importance of the matters to which
his prayers had reference, Benvenuto had no sooner
entered the church than his actions indicated that his
mind was upon something very different. His distraction
was due to the fact that just behind him, but on the
other side of the nave, sat a young girl reading from an
illuminated missal, — a young girl so adorably lovely that
she might well have confused the thoughts of a saint,
much more of a sculptor. Under such circumstances the
artist sadly interfered with the devotions of the Chris
tian. The gallant Cellini could not resist the desire
to have some one to join him in his admiration, and as

132 ASCANIO.

Catherine, who was at his left, would certainly have
frowned upon his inattention., he turned to Ascanio, who
was at his right, with the purpose of bidding him turn
his eyes toward the lovely picture.

But Ascanio's eyes needed no bidding in that direction ;
from the moment that he entered the church his gaze
was riveted upon the maiden, and his eyes never left her
face.

Benvenuto, seeing that he was absorbed in contempla
tion of the same object, simply nudged him with his
elbow.

" Yes," said Ascanio ; " yes, it is Colombo. 0 mas
ter, is she not beautiful ? "

It was indeed Colombe ; her father, not anticipating
an attack at high noon, had given her permission, not
without some reluctance, to go to the Augustins to pray.
Colombe, it is true, was very earnest in her request, for
it was the only consolation that remained to her. Dame
Perrine was by her side.

" Ah qa ! who is Colombe ? " was Benvenuto's very
natural query.

" Ah ! yes, you do not know her. Colombe is the
daughter of the provost, Messire d'Estourville himself.
Is she not beautiful?" he said again.

" No," rejoined Benvenuto, " no, it 's not Colombe.
'T is Hebe, Ascanio, the goddess of youth ; the Hebe
whom my great King FranQois has ordered at my hands ;
the Hebe of whom I have dreamed, for whom I have
prayed to God, and who has come down from above in
response to my prayer."

Eegardless of the incongruity of the idea of Hebe
reading her missal, and pouring out her heart in prayer,
Benvenuto continued his hymn to beauty simultaneously
with his devotion and his military plans : the goldsmith,

PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE. 133

the Catholic, and the strategist predominated in his mind
by turns.

" Our Father who art in heaven — Look, Ascanio,
what clean-cut, expressive features ! — Thy kingdom
come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven —
How fascinatingly graceful the undulating outline of her
figure ! — Give us this day our daily bread — And thou
sayest that such a lovely child is the daughter of that
rascally provost whom I propose to exterminate with my
own hand? — And forgive us our trespasses, as we for
give those who trespass against us — Even though I have
to burn down the Hotel to do it — Amen ! "

And Benvenuto crossed himself, having no doubt that
he had just concluded a most expressive rendering of the
Lord's prayer.

The mass came to an end while he was still absorbed
in these heterogeneous ideas, which might seem some
what profane in the case of a man of different tempera
ment at a different epoch, but which were altogether
natural in so reckless a nature as Cellini's, at a time when
Clement Marot was putting the seven penitential psalms
into gallant verse.

As soon as the lie, missa est, was pronounced, Ben
venuto and Catherine exchanged a warm grasp of the
hand. Then, while the girl, wiping away a tear, re
mained on the spot where she was to await the result of
the combat, Cellini and Ascanio, their eyes still fixed
upon Colombe, who had not once looked up from her
book, went with their companions to take a drop of holy
water ; after which they separated, to meet in a deserted
cul-de-sac about half-way from the church to the Hotel
de Nesle.

Catherine, in accordance with the prearranged plan,
remained to the celebration of high mass, as did Colombe

134 ASCANIO.

and Dame Perrine, who had simply arrived a little early,
and had listened to the first service only as a preparation
for the more solemn ceremony to follow ; nor had they
any reason to suspect that Benvenuto and his apprentices
were upon the point of cutting all the lines of communi
cation with the house they had so imprudently quitted.

THRUST AND PARRY. 135

rx.

THRUST AND PARRY.

THE decisive moment had arrived. Benvenuto divided
his men into two detachments : one was to attempt, by
every possible means, to force the door of the H6tel ; the
other was to cover the operations of the first, and to
keep from the walls, with arquebus shots or with their
swords, any of the besieged who might appear upon the
battlements, or who might attempt a sortie. Benvenuto
took command of this last detachment in person, and
selected our friend Ascanio for his lieutenant. At the
head of the other he placed Hermann, the good-humored,
gallant German, who could flatten an iron bar with a
hammer, and a man with his fist. He chose for his
second in command little Jehan, a rascal of fifteen years,
as active as a squirrel, mischievous as a monkey, and
impudent as a page, for whom the Goliath had conceived
a very deep affection, for the reason, doubtless, that the
playful youngster was forever tormenting him. Little
Jehan proudly took his place beside his captain, to the
great chagrin of Pagolo, who in his double cuirass was
not unlike the statue of the Commandeur in the rigidity
of his movements.

Having thus made his dispositions, and reviewed his
men and inspected their weapons for the last time, Ben
venuto addressed a few words to the brave fellows who
were about to face danger, perhaps death, in his cause,

136 ASCANIO.

with such good will. Then he grasped each man's hand,
crossed himself devoutly, and cried, " Forward ! "

The two parties at once took up their line of march,
and, skirting the Quai des Augustins, which was deserted
at that hour in that spot, they very soon arrived at the
Hotel de Nesle.

Thereupon Benvenuto, unwilling to attack his enemy
without first going through all the formalities prescribed
by custom in such cases, went forward alone, waving a
white handkerchief at the end of his sword, to the same
small door as before, and knocked. As before, he was
questioned through the barred opening as to the object .of
his visit. Benvenuto repeated the same formula, saying
that he had come to take possession of the chateau given
him by the king. But he was less fortunate than on the
former occasion, in that he was not honored with any
reply at all.

Thereupon, facing the door, he exclaimed, in loud, dis
tinct tones : —

" To thee, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, do I,
Benvenuto Cellini, goldsmith, sculptor, painter, and engi
neer, make known that his Majesty Francois I. has in
his good pleasure, as it was his right to do, given to me
absolutely the Grand-Nesle. As thou dost insolently
maintain thy hold upon it, and, in contravention of the
royal will, dost refuse to deliver it to me, I hereby declare
to thee, Robert d'Estourville, Seigneur de Villebon, Pro
vost of Paris, that I have come to take possession of the
Grand-Xesle by force. Defend thyself therefore, and, if
evil comes of thy refusal, know that thou wilt be held
answerable therefor on earth and in heaven, before man
and before God."

With that Benvenuto paused, and waited ; but not a
sound came from behind the walls. He thereupon

THRUST AND PARRY. 137

loaded his arquebus, and ordered his men to make ready
their weapons ; then, assembling the leaders Hermann,
Ascanio, and Jehan in council, he said to them : —

" You see, rny children, that it is not possible to avoid
the conflict. Now it is for us to decide in what way we
shall begin the attack."

" I will break in the door," said Hermann, " and do
you follow me in ; that 's all."

" With what will you do it, my Samson ? " queried
Cellini.

Hermann looked about and saw on the quay a piece of
timber which four ordinary men would have found it
difficult to lift.

" With that beam," he said.

He walked to where it lay, coolly picked it up, placed
it under his arm, and fixed it there like a ram in its
socket, then returned to his general.

Meanwhile a crowd was beginning to collect, and
Benvenuto, excited thereby, was on the point of giving
orders for the attack to begin, when the captain of the
king's archers, notified doubtless by some conservative
citizen, appeared at the corner of the street, accompanied
by five or six mounted men. This captain was a friend
of the provost, and although he knew perfectly well what
was toward, he rode up to Benvenuto, hoping to intimi
date him doubtless, and while his people checked Her
mann's advance, he said : —

"What is your desire, and why do you thus disturb
the peace of the city ? "

" The man who really disturbs the peace," replied
Cellini, " is he who refuses to obey the king's orders, not
he who executes them."

" What do you mean ? " inquired the captain.

" I mean that I hold a deed in due form, delivered to

138 ASCANIO.

me by Messire de Neuf ville, secretary of the royal treas
ury, wherein his Majesty grants to me the Hotel du
Grand-Nesle. But the people who are in possession refuse
to recognize this deed, and thereby keep me from my own.
Now in one way or another, I have got it into my head
that, since Scripture says that we must render unto
Caesar the things that are Caesar's, Benvenuto Cellini is
entitled to take what belongs to Benvenuto Cellini."

" Yes ! and instead of preventing us from taking pos
session of our property, you ought to lend us a hand,"
cried Pagolo.

" Be silent, rascal," said Benvenuto, stamping angrily ;
" I have no need of anybody's assistance. Dost thou
understand ? "

" You are right in theory, but wrong in practice,"
rejoined the captain.

" How may that be ? " demanded Benvenuto, who felt
that the blood was beginning to rise in his cheeks.

" You are right to wish to enter into possession of your
property, but you are wrong to undertake to do it in this
way ; for you will not gain much, I promise you, fighting
walls with your swords. If I were to give you a lit
tle friendly advice, it would be to apply to the officers
of justice, and carry your grievance to the Provost of
Paris, for example. With that, adieu, arid good luck
to you!"

And the captain of the king's archers rode away with a
-sneering laugh, whereupon the crowd laughed too.

" He laughs best who laughs last," said Benvenuto
Cellini. " Forward, Hermann, forward ! "

Hermann took up his joist once more, and while
Cellini, Ascanio, and two or three of the most skilful
marksmen of the party, arquebus in hand, stood in readi
ness to fire upon the wall, he rushed forward like a

THRUST AND PARRY. 139

living catapult against the small door, which they deemed
to be easier to burst in than the large one.

But when he approached the vyall a shower of stones
began to rain down upon him, although no defenders
could be seen ; for the provost had ordered stones to be
piled on top of the wall, and it was necessary only to
push lightly against the piles to send them down upon
the heads of the besiegers.

The latter, being thus warmly received, recoiled a step
or two, but, although taken entirely by surprise by this
alarming method of defence, no one was wounded save
Pagolo ; he was so overburdened with his double cuirass
that he could not fall back so quickly as the others, and
was wounded in the heel.

Hermann himself was no more disturbed by this
shower of pebbles than an oak tree by a hail-storm, and
kept on to the door, where he at once set to work and
began to deal such blows against it that it soon became
evident that, stout as it was, it could not long withstand
such treatment.

Benvenuto and his men meanwhile stood ready with
their arquebuses to tire upon anybody who might appear
upon the wall, but no one appeared. The Grand-Nesle
seemed to be defended by an invisible garrison, and
Benvenuto raged inwardly at his inability to do anything
to assist the dauntless German. Suddenly he happened
to glance at the old Tour de Nesle, which stood by itself,
as we have said, on the other side of the quay, and
bathed its feet in the Seine.

" Wait, Hermann," cried Cellini, " wait, my good fel
low ; the Hotel de Nesle is ours as surely as my name is
Benvenuto Cellini, and I am a goldsmith by trade."

Motioning to Ascanio and his two companions to fol
low him, he ran to the tower, while Hermann, in obedi-

140 ASCANIO-

ence to his orders, stepped back out of range of the
stones, and awaited the fulfilment of the general's prom
ise, leaning upon his timber as a Swiss would lean upon
his halberd.

As Benvenuto anticipated, the provost had neglected
to station a guard in the old tower, so that he took pos
session of it unopposed, and, running up the stairs, four
at a leap, reached the summit in a moment ; the terrace
overlooked the walls of the Grand-Nesle, as a steeple
overlooks a town, so that the besieged, who a moment
before were sheltered by their ramparts, suddenly found
themselves entirely unprotected.

The report of an arquebus and the hissing of a bullet,
followed by the fall of an archer, warned the provost that
the face of affairs was in all probability about to change.

At the same moment. Hermann, realizing that he would
now have a free field, resumed his joist, and began to
batter away again at the door, which the besieged had
strengthened somewhat during the momentary suspension
of hostilities.

The crowd, with the marvellous instinct of self-posses
sion always noticeable in such bodies, realized that shooting
was to form part of the entertainment, and that specta
tors of the tragedy about to be enacted were likely to be
splashed with blood ; and they no sooner heard the report
of Benvenuto's arquebus and the cry of the wounded
archer than they dispersed like a flock of pigeons.

A single individual remained.

This was no other than our friend, Jacques Aubry, the
student, who had kept the appointment made the pre
ceding Sunday with Ascanio, in the hope of enjoying his
game of tennis.

He had but to cast a glance over the battle-field to
understand what was going on.

THRUST AND PARRY. 141

It is not difficult to divine the determination arrived
at by Jacques Aubry, from what we have already seen of
his character. To play at tennis- or with fire-arms was
equally sport to him ; and as he guessed that the besiegers
were most likely to be his friends, he enlisted under
their banner.

" Well, my boys," he said, walking up to the group
which was waiting for the door to be burst in to rush
into the citadel, " we are having a bit of a siege, are we?
Peste ! you 're not attacking a cabin, and it 's a good
deal of an undertaking for so few of you to try to take a
strong place like this."

" We are not alone," said Pagolo, who was dressing his
heel ; and he pointed to Benvenuto and his three or four
companions, who were keeping up such a well sustained
fire upon the wall that the stones were falling much less
freely than at first.

" I see, I see, Master Achilles," said Jacques Aubry,
" for you are like him in being wounded in the heel, in
addition to a thousand other points of similarity, no
doubt. I see : yes, there 's my friend Ascanio, and the
master doubtless, on top of the tower yonder."

"Very true," said Pagolo.

"And that fellow banging away at the door so lustily
is one of you also, is n't he ? "

" That 's Hermann," said little Jehan proudly.

" Peste ! how he goes on ! " said the student. " I
must go and congratulate him."

He sauntered along with his hands in his pockets,
regardless of the bullets whistling above his head, to the
brave German, who kept at his task with the regularity
of a machine.

"Do you need anything, my dear Goliath 1" said
Jacques Aubry. " I am at your service."

142 ASCANIO.

" I am thirsty," replied Hermann, without pausing in
his work.

" Peste ! I can well believe it ; that 's thirsty work
you're doing there, and I wish I had a cask of beer to
offer you."

" Water ! " said Hermann, " water ! "

" Do you mean that that mild beverage will satisfy
you 1 So be it. The river is at hand, and you shall be
served in -a moment."

Jacques ran to the river, filled his helmet with water,
and took it to the German. Ho leaned his beam against
the wall, swallowed at a draught all that the helmet con
tained, and handed it back to the student empty.

" Thanks," he said, and, taking up the beam once
more, he resumed his work.

An instant later he said, " Go and tell the master to
be in readiness, for we are getting on famously here."

Jacques Aubry started for the tower, and in a very few
moments he stood between Ascanio and Benvenuto, who
were keeping up such a brisk and effective fire that they
had already shot down two or three men, and the pro
vost's archers were beginning to think twice before show
ing themselves upon the walls.

Meanwhile, as Hermann had sent word to Benvenuto,
the door was beginning to yield, and the provost resolved
to make one last effort ; he cheered on his men to such
good purpose that the stones began to rain down once
more. But two or three arquebus shots speedily calmed
anew the ardor of the besieged, who, despite all Messire
Robert's promises and remonstrances, coyly remained out
of range. Thereupon Messire Robert himself appeared,
alone, carrying in his hands an enormous stone, and made
ready to hurl it down upon Hermann's head.

But Benvenuto was not the man to allow his retainer

THRUST AND PARRY. 143

to be taken by surprise. As soon as he caught sight of
the provost rashly venturing where no one else ventured
to go, he put his weapon to his shoulder ; it would have
been all up with Messire Robert, had not Ascanio, just as
Cellini pulled the trigger, thrown up the barrel with a
quick motion of his hand accompanied by a sharp excla
mation, so that the bullet whistled harmlessly through
the air. Ascanio had recognized Colombo's father.

As Benvenuto turned furiously upon him to demand
an explanation, the stone, thrown with all the force the
provost could impart to it, fell full upon Hermann's hel
met. Even the enormous strength of the modern Titan
was not equal to the task of sustaining such a blow ; he
relaxed his hold of the timber, threw out his arms as if
seeking something to cling to, and, rinding nothing within
reach, fell to the ground unconscious, with a terrible
crash.

Besieged and besiegers simultaneously set up a shout.
Little Jehan and three or four comrades who were near
Hermann ran to him to carry him away from the wall,
and look to his injuries ; but the large and small doors of
the Hotel de Nesle opened at the same moment, and
the provost, at the head of twelve or fifteen men, darted
upon the wounded man, cutting and slashing vigorously,
as did all his followers, so that Jehan and his comrades
were forced to retreat, although Benvenuto was shouting
to them to hold their ground, and that he would come
and help them. The provost seized the opportunity ;
eight of his men lifted Hermann, who was still uncon
scious, by the arms and legs, and seven took up a posi
tion to protect their retreat, so that, while Cellini,
Ascanio, and their three or four comrades on the terrace
of the tower were hurrying down the four or five flights
of stairs which lay between them and the street, Her-

144 ASCANIO.

mann and his bearers re-entered the Grand-Nesle. When
Cellini, arquebus in hand, appeared at the door of the
tower, the door of the Hotel was just closing behind the
last of the provost's men-at-arms.

There was no disguising the fact that this was a check,
and a serious check at that. Cellini, Ascanio, and their
comrades had, it is true, disabled three or four of the
besieged, but the loss of these three or four men was
much less disastrous to the provost, than was the loss of
Hermann to Cellini.

The besiegers were dazed for a moment.

Suddenly Ascanio and Cellini looked at each other, as
if by a common impulse.

" I have a plan," said Cellini, looking to the left, that
is to say, toward the city.

" And so have I," Ascanio rejoined, looking to the
right, that is to say, toward the fields.

" I have devised a plan to bring the garrison out of the
castle."

" And I a plan to open the door for you, if you do
bring them out"

" How many men do you need ? "

" A single one will suffice."

" Choose."

" Will you come with me, Jacques Aubry ? " said
Ascanio.

" To the end of the world, my dear fellow, to the end
of the world. But I should n't be sorry to have some
sort of a weapon, the end of a sword for instance, or a
suspicion of a dagger — four or five inches of steel to feel
my way with if occasion requires."

" Oh, take Pagolo's sword," said Ascanio ; " he can't
use it, for he 's nursing his heel with his right hand and
crossing himself with the other."

THRUST AND PARRY. 145

" And here 's my own dagger to complete your outfit,"
said Cellini. " Strike with it all you please, young man,
but do not leave it in the wound ; it would be altogether
too handsome a present to the wounded man, for the hilt
was carved by myself, and is worth a hundred golden
crowns, if it is worth a sou."

"And the blade?" queried Jacques Aubry. "The
hilt is very valuable, no doubt, but at such a time the
blade is of the greatest importance to my mind."

" The blade is priceless," rejoined Benvenuto ; " with
it I killed my brother's mnrderer."

" Bravo ! " cried the student. " Come, Ascanio, let 's
be off."

" I am ready," said Ascanio, winding five or six
lengths of rope around his body, and putting one of the
ladders over his shoulder, — "I am ready."

The two venturesome youths walked along the quay a
hundred yards or thereabouts, then turned to the left,
and disappeared around the corner of the wall of the
Grand-Nesle, behind the city moat.

Let us leave Ascanio to carry out his scheme, and fol
low Cellini in the development of his.

The objects upon which his eyes rested, when, as we
have said, he looked toward the left, that is, in the direc
tion of the city, were two women, standing amid a group
of timid spectators at some little distance, — two women,
in whom he thought he recognized the provost's daughter
and her governess.

They were in fact Colombe and Dame Perrine, who,
after hearing mass, set out to return to the Petit-Nesle,
and had come to a stand-still in the crowd, trembling
with alarm on account of what they had heard of the
siege that was in progress, and of what they saw with
their own eyes.

VOL I. — 10

146 ASCANIO.

But Colombe no sooner perceived that there was a
momentary cessation of hostilities, which left the road
open for her, than, heedless of the entreaties of Dame
Perrine, who begged her not to risk her safety in the
tumult, she went forward resolutely, impelled by her
anxiety for her father, and leaving Dame Perrine entirely
free to follow her or to remain where she was. As the
duenna was really deeply attached to her charge, she
determined to accompany her, notwithstanding her fright.

They left the group just as Ascanio and Jacques Aubry
turned the corner of the wall.

Now Benvenuto Cellini's plan may be divined.

As soon as he saw the two women coming toward him,
he himself stepped forward to meet them, and gallantly
offered his arm to Colombe.

" Have no fear, madame," he said ; " if you will deign
to accept my arm I will escort you to your father."

Colombe hesitated, but Dame Perrine seized the arm
on her side which Benvenuto had forgotten to offer her.

" Take his arm, my dear, take it," she said, " and let
us accept this noble knight's protection. Look, look !
there is Monsieur le Pr^vot, leaning over the wall : he is
anxious about us, no doubt."

Colombe took Benvenuto's arm, and the three walked
to within a step or two of the door.

There Cellini stopped, and said to the provost in a
loud voice, making sure that Colombe's arm and Dame
Perrine's were safely within his own : —

"Monsieur le Pre'vot, your daughter who is here de
sires to enter ; I trust that you will open the door to her,
unless you prefer to leave so charming a hostage in your
enemy's hands."

Twenty times within two hours the provost, behind his
ramparts, had thought of his daughter, whom he had so

THRUST AND PARRY. 147

imprudently allowed to go out, being in considerable doubt
as to the possibility of admitting her again. He was hop
ing that she would be warned in time, and would be wise
enough to go to the Grand-Ch<itelet and await results,
when he saw Cellini leave his companions and go to
meet two women, in whom he recognized Colombo and
Dame Perrine.

" The little fool ! " he muttered beneath his breath ;
" but I can't leave her in the midst of these miscreants."

He opened the wicket, and showed his face behind the
grating.

" Well," said he, " what are your terms 1 "

"These," said Benvenuto. "I will allow Madame
Colombo and her governess to enter, but only on condi
tion that you come forth with all your men, and we will
then decide our dispute by a fair fight in the open.
They who remain in possession of the battle-field shall
have the Hotel de J^esle ; ' Vce victis ! ' as your com
patriot Brennus said."

" I accept," said the provost, " on one condition."

" What is it ? "

"That you and your people stand back to give my
daughter time to come in and my archers time to go out."

" Agreed," said Cellini ; " but do you come out first,
and let Madame Colombo go in afterward ; when she is
safely inside, you will throw the key over the wall to her,
and thus leave yourself no opportunity to retreat."

" Agreed," said the provost.

" Your word ? "

" On the faith of a gentleman. And yours ? "

" On the faith of Benvenuto Cellini."

These terms being agreed upon, the door opened, and
the provost's retainers filed out, and drew up in two
rows before the door, Messire d'Estourville at their head.

148 ASCANIO.

They were nineteen in all. On the other side, Benve-
nuto, without Ascanio, Hermann, and Jacques Aubry, had
but eight men remaining, and of these Simon-le-Gaucher
was wounded, — luckily in the right hand. But Ben-
venuto was not given to counting his foes ; it will he
remembered that he did not hesitate to attack Pompeo
single-handed, although he was attended by a dozen
sbirri. He was only too glad, therefore, to abide by his
agreement, for he desired nothing so much as a general
and decisive action.

" You may go in now, madaine," he said to his fair
prisoner.

Colombe flew across the space which lay between the
two camps as swiftly as the bird whose name she bore,
'and threw herself panting into the provost's arms.

" Father ! father ! " she cried, weeping, " in Heaven's
name, do not expose yourself ! "

" Go inside ! " said the provost sharply, taking her by
the arm, and leading her to the door; "'tis your folly
that reduces us to this extremity."

Colombe passed through the door, followed by Dame
Perrine, to whom fear had lent, if not wings, as to her
lovely ward, at least legs, which she thought she had
lost ten years before.

The provost closed the door behind them.

" The key ! the key ! " cried Cellini.

True to his promise, the provost took the key from the
lock and threw it over the wall, so that it fell into the
courtyard.

"And now," cried Benvenuto, rushing upon the pro
vost and his troop, " every man for himself, and God for
us all!"

A terrible struggle ensued, for before the provost's
people had time to lower their weapons and fire, Ben-

THRUST AND PARRY. 149

venuto with his seven workmen was in their midst,
slashing to right and left with the terrible sword which
he handled in such masterly fashion, and which, forged
by his own hand, met few coats of mail or breastplates
able to resist it. The soldiers thereupon cast aside their
useless arquebuses, drew their swords, and began to cut
and thrust in return. But, despite their numbers and^
their gallantry, in less time than it takes to write the
words, they were scattered all about the square, and two
or three of the bravest, wounded so severely that they
could fight no longer, were forced to fall back.

The provost saw the danger, and being a brave man,
who in his time had achieved some fame as a fighting
man, he rushed forward to confront this redoubtable Ben-
venuto Cellini, whom nobody seemed able to withstand.

" To me ! " he cried ; " to me, infamous robber ! and
let us decide the affair ! What say you 1 "

" Oh ! I could ask nothing better," replied Benvenuto.
" If you will bid your people not to interfere with us, I
am your man."

" Stand where you are ! " said the provost to his men.

" Let not one of you stir ! " said Cellini to his.

And the combatants on either side stood rooted in
their places, silent and motionless, like the Homeric
warriors, who ceased their own fighting in order to miss
no part of a contest between two renowned chiefs.

Thereupon the provost and Cellini, each of whom
already held his naked sword in his hand, attacked each
other at the same instant.

The provost was a clever fencer, but Cellini's skill in
that direction was of the very first order. For ten or
twelve years past the provost had not once had occasion
to draw his sword. On the other hand, during those
same ten or twelve years hardly a day had passed that

150 ASCANIO.

Benvenuto had not had or made an occasion to draw his.
At the outset, therefore, the provost, who had counted a
little too much upon his own prowess, became conscious
of his enemy's superiority.

Cellini, for his part, meeting with a resistance which
he hardly anticipated from a man of the robe, exerted all
the energy, activity, and cunning of which he was ca
pable. It was a marvellous thing to watch his sword,
which, like the triple sting of a serpent, threatened the
head and the heart at the same instant, flying from place
to place, and hardly giving his adversary time to parry,
much less to make a single thrust. And so the provost,
realizing that he had to do with one stronger than him
self, began to give ground, still defending himself,
however. Unluckily for Messire Robert, his back was
toward the wall, so that a very few steps brought him
up against the door, for which he instinctively aimed,
although he was well aware that he had thrown the key
over the wall.

When he reached that point he felt that he was lost,
and like a wild boar at bay, he summoned all his strength,
and delivered three or four lusty blows in such rapid
succession that it was Benvenuto's turn to parry : once
indeed he was a second too late, and his adversary's blade
grazed his breast, despite the excellent coat of mail he
wore. But, like a wounded lion bent upon speedy ven
geance, Benvenuto, the moment that he felt the sharp
point of the sword, gathered himself for a spring, and
would have run the provost through with a deadly lunge,
had not the door behind him suddenly given way at that
moment, so that Messire d'Estourville fell over back
wards, and the sword came in contact with the individual
who had saved him by opening the door so unexpectedly.

But the result was different from what might have

THRUST AND PARRY. 151

been expected, for the wounded man said nothing, while
Benvenuto gave utterance to a terrible cry. He had
recognized Ascanio in the man whom he had uninten
tionally wounded. He had no eyes for Hermann or for
Jacques Aubry, who stood behind his victim. Like a
madman, he threw his arms around the young man's neck,
seeking the wound with his eyes and his hand and his
mouth, and crying: —

"Slain, slain, slain by my hand! Ascanio, my child,
I have killed thee ! " and roaring and weeping, as lions
roar and weep.

Meanwhile Hermann extricated the provost, unharmed,
from between Ascanio's and Cellini's legs, and, taking
him under his arm as he might have done with a baby,
deposited him in a little house where Raimbault kept his
gardening tools. He locked the door upon him, drew his
sword, and assumed a posture indicative of his purpose
to defend his prisoner against any one who might under
take to recapture him.

Jacques Aubry made but one bound from the pave
ment to the top of the wall, brandishing his dagger
triumphantly, and shouting : " Blow, trumpets, blow !
the Grand-Nesle is ours ! "

How all these surprising things had come to pass the
reader will discover in the following chapter.

152 ASCANIO.

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS.

THE Hotel de Nesle, on the side bounded by the Pre'-aux-
Clercs, was doubly defended by its walls and by the city
moat, so that on that side it was considered impregnable.
Now Ascanio very sensibly reflected that it is seldom
deemed necessary to guard what cannot be taken, and he
determined to make an attack upon the point where the
besieged had not thought of providing against one.

With that object in view he set out with his friend
Jacques Aubry, not dreaming that, as he disappeared in
one direction, Colombe would appear in the other, and
provide Benvenuto with a means of compelling the pro
vost to adopt a course which he was most reluctant to
adopt.

Ascanio's scheme was very difficult of execution, and
very dangerous in its possible results. He proposed to
cross a deep moat, scale a wall twenty-five feet high,
and at the end perhaps fall into the midst of the enemy.
Not till he arrived at the brink of the moat and of his
enterprise did he realize the difficulty of crossing the one
and carrying through the other; and then his determina
tion, firm as it was at the outset, wavered for an instant.

Jacques Aubry halted some ten or twelve paces behind
his friend, and stood tranquilly gazing from the wall to
the moat. Having measured them both with his eye, he
said : —

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 153

" I beg you, my dear fellow, to have the kindness to
inform me why you bring me hither, unless it be to fish
for frogs. Ah! yes, — you glance at your ladder. Very
good. I understand. But your ladder is only twelve
feet long, while the wall is twenty-five feet high and the
moat ten wide, which makes a difference of twenty-three
feet, if my reckoning is correct. "

Ascanio was taken aback for a moment by this unan
swerable arithmetic; but suddenly he cried, striking his
forehead with his hand : —

" Ah ! I have an idea! Look! "

" Where ? "

" There ! " said Ascanio; " there ! "

" That 's not an idea you are pointing at, " rejoined
the student, " but an oak tree."

There was in truth a huge oak growing near the outer
edge of the moat, the upper branches of which gazed
inquisitively over the wall of the Sejour de Nesle.

" What 1 don't you understand ? " cried Ascanio.

" Yes ! yes ! I begin to see through it now. Yes, it 's
the very thing. I see it all. The oak and the wall
form part of the arch of a bridge which your ladder will
complete : but the abyss yawns beneath, my friend, and
an abyss full of mud. The devil ! we must n't forget
that. I am wearing my best clothes, and Simone's hus
band is beginning to grumble about giving me credit."

" Help me to hoist the ladder, " said Ascanio ; " that 's
all I ask of you. "

" Aha ! " said the student, " and I am to stay below!
Thanks!"

Each of them seized a branch, and they were soon in
the tree. By their united strength they succeeded in
pulling the ladder up after them to the top of the tree,
where they lowered it like a drawbridge, and found to

154 ASCANIO.

their intense satisfaction that while one end rested firmly
upon a stout branch, the other end extended two or
three feet beyond the wall.

" But when we are upon the wall, what are we to
do ? " Aubry inquired.

" Why, when we 're upon the wall we will pull the
ladder after us, and go down by it."

" Very good. There is only one trifling difficulty, and
that is that the wall is twenty-five feet high, and the
ladder only twelve."

"I have provided for that," said Ascanio, unwinding
the rope from his body. Ho then made one end fast to
the trunk of the tree, and threw the other over the wall.

" Ah ! great man, I understand you, " cried Aubry,
" and I am proud and happy to break my neck with
you."

" Very well ! what do you propose to do ? "

" Go across, " and Aubry prepared to cross the space
that lay between them and the wall.

" No, no ! " said Ascanio, " it is my place to go first. "

" Which finger is wet 1 " said Aubry, holding out his
hand to his companion with two fingers open and two
closed.

" So be it, " said Ascanio, touching one of the two
closed fingers.

" You have won, " said Aut>ry. " Go on : but keep
cool, don't get excited."

" Never fear."

Ascanio started out upon the flying bridge, while
Jacques Aubry steadied it by sitting upon the end; the
ladder was a frail support, but the daring youth was
light. The student, hardly daring to breathe, thought
that he wavered for an instant ; but he passed quickly
over the narrow space that separated him from the wall,

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 155

and arrived there safe and sound. He was still in very
great danger if any of the besieged should happen to
espy him, but his anticipations were verified.

" No one in sight, " he shouted to his companion, —
"no one!"

" If that is so, " said Aubry, " on with the dance ! "

And he ventured upon the narrow, trembling path,
while Ascanio, putting his whole weight upon the other
end of the ladder, repaid the service rendered him. As
he was as light and as active as Ascanio, he was at his
side in an instant.

Both of them sat astride the wall and drew the ladder
across ; they then made fast the other end of the rope to
it, and lowered it, swinging it out so that the lower end
would rest on the ground at a safe distance from the
wall; lastly, Ascanio, who had won the privilege of
making experiments, took the rope in both hands and
slid down until his feet rested upon the topmost round
of the ladder; another second and he was on the ground.

Jacques Aubry followed him with similar good for
tune, and the two friends found themselves in the
garden.

It was plainly advisable for them to act at once. All
their manoeuvring had taken considerable time, and
Ascanio was fearful lest his absence and Aubry's had
been prejudicial to the master's interests. Drawing their
swords as they ran, they hastened to the door leading
into the first courtyard, where the garrison should be,
assuming that they had not changed their position.
Wheq. they reached the door, Ascanio put his eye to the
keyhole, and saw that the courtyard was empty.

" Benvenuto has succeeded, " he cried ; " the garrison
has gone out. The hotel is ours ! " and he tried to open
the door, which proved to be locked.

156 ASCANIO.

Both of the young men put forth all their strength in
an effort to force it.

" This way ! this way ! " exclaimed a voice, which
found an echo in Ascanio's heart: " this way, Monsieur ! "

He turned and saw Colombo at a window on the
ground floor. In two bounds he was at her side.

" Aha! " exclaimed Jacques Aubry, following him ; " it
seems that we have friends in the citadel! Aha! you
did n't tell me that, my boy ! "

" Oh ! save my father, Monsieur Ascanio ! " cried
Colombe, without any indication of surprise at the young
man's appearance, and as if his presence were the most
natural thing in the world. " They are fighting outside,
do you know, and it 's all for me, all on my account !
0 mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! grant that they kill not one
another ! "

" Have no fear, " said Ascanio, darting into the apart
ment, which had a door leading into the little courtyard;
" have no fear, I will answer for everything ! "

" Have no fear, " said Jacques Aubry , following at his
heels ; " have no fear, we will answer for everything ! "

As he entered the room Ascanio heard his name called
a second time, hut by a voice much less musical than the
other.

" Who calls me ? " he said.

" I, my young friend," the same voice replied, with a
most pronounced Teutonic accent.

" Pardieu ! " cried Aubry, " 't is our Goliath ! What
the deuce are you doing in that hen-roost ? " he added,
looking through the window of the gardener's shed, at
which he saw a face which he recognized as Hermann's.

UI haf found myself here, but I know not how I haf
here come. Draw the bolt, that I may go and fight.
Quick, quick, quick ! my hand itches. "

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 157

" There you are ! " said the student, rendering Her
mann the service he requested.

Meanwhile Ascanio was hurrying toward the door
opening on the quay, where he could hear a tremendous
clashing of swords. When naught but the thickness of
the wood separated him from the combatants, he feared
that, if he showed himself at that moment, he" might
fall into the hands of his enemies, so he first looked out
through the grated wicket. There he saw Cellini facing
him, eager, excited and thirsting for the blood of his
antagonist, and realized that Messire Robert was lost.
He picked up the key, which lay on the ground, opened
the door quickly, and thinking of nothing save his
promise to Colombe, received in his shoulder the blow
which, but for him, would inevitably have transfixed the
provost.

We have already witnessed the result of that occur
rence. Benvenuto, in desperation, threw himself upon
Ascanio's neck; Hermann imprisoned the provost in the
same cage from which he had just been set free himself;
and Jacques Aubry, perched upon the rampart, flapped
his wings and crowed lustily in honor of the victory.

The victory was in very truth complete; the provost's
people, when their master was made prisoner, did not
even try to dispute it, but laid down their arms.

Accordingly the goldsmiths all entered the courtyard
of the Grand-Nesle, thenceforth their property, and se
cured the door behind them, leaving the archers and
sergeants outside.

Benvenuto, however, took no part in the latter pro
ceedings; he still held Ascanio in his arms, having re
moved his coat of mail, torn away his doublet, and finally
reached the wound, and was stanching the flow of blood
with his handkerchief.

158 ASCAXIO.

" My Ascanio, my child ! " he said again and again ;
" wounded, wounded by me ! what will thy mother in
heaven say ? Forgive me, Stefana, forgive me ! Art
thou in pain 1 tell me. Does my hand hurt thee ? Will
this accursed blood never stop ? A surgeon, quickly !
Pray, will not some one call a surgeon ? "

Jacques Aubry ran out of the courtyard at the top of
his speed.

" It is nothing, dear master, it is nothing, " said As
canio; "a mere scratch on my arm. — Don't feel so ter
ribly, for I assure you it's nothing."

The surgeon, brought to the hotel by Jacques Aubry
five minutes later, confirmed Ascanio's assurance that the
wound was not dangerous, although quite deep, and at
once set about bandaging it.

" Ah ! what a weight you lift from my heart ! " said
Cellini. " Then I am not thy murderer, dear child !
But what is the matter, my Ascanio? thy pulse is beat
ing madly, and the blood rushing to thy face ! 0
Monsieur le Chirurgien, we must take him away from
here, — the fever is laying hold of him."

No, no, master," said Ascanio, " on the contrary I feel
much better. Leave me here, leave me here, I implore
you!"

" My father? " suddenly inquired a voice behind Ben-
venuto, which made him jump ; " what have you done
with my father ? "

Benvenuto turned and saw Colombe, pale and rigid,
seeking the provost with her glance, as she asked for him
with her voice.

" Oh ! he is safe and sound, Mademoiselle ! safe and
sound, thanks be to Heaven ! " cried Ascanio.

" Thanks be to this poor boy, who received the blow
intended for him," said Benvenuto, "for you may truly

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 159

say that this gallant fellow saved your life, Monsieur le
Prevot. — How 's this ? where are you, Messire Robert ? "
exclaimed Cellini, looking about for the provost, whose
disappearance he could not understand.

" He is here, master, " said Hermann.

" Where, pray 1 "

" Here, in the little prison."

" 0 Monsieur Benvenuto ! " cried Colombo, darting
to the shed with a gesture of mingled entreaty and
reproach.

" Open, Hermann, " said Cellini.

Hermann obeyed, and the provost appeared in the
doorway, somewhat humiliated by his misadventure.
Colombo threw herself into his arms.

" 0 father ! father ! " she cried ; " are you not
wounded ? has no harm befallen you ? " and as she spoke
she looked at Ascanio.

" No, " said the provost in his harsh voice, " no, thank
Heaven! nothing has happened to me."

" And — and — " queried Colombe, in a faltering tone,
" is it true that this youth — "

" I cannot deny that he arrived at just the right time."

" Yes, " interposed Cellini, " yes, at the right time to
receive the sword thrust which I intended for you, Mon
sieur le Prevot. Yes, Mademoiselle Colombe, yes, "he
added, " you owe your father's life to this brave fellow,
and if Monsieur le Prevot does n't proclaim it from the
housetops, he is an ingrate as well as a liar."

" I trust that his rescuer will not have to pay too
dearly for his gallantry, " rejoined Colombe, blushing at
her own audacity.

" 0 Mademoiselle ! " cried Ascanio, " I would gladly
have shed all my blood in such a cause! "

"Well, well, Messire le Prevot," said Cellini, "see

160 ASCANIO.

what tender emotions you have caused to spring up.
But Ascanio may not be able to bear the excitement.
The bandage is in place, and it would be well for him, I
think, to take a little rest now."

What Benvenuto had said to the provost of the service
rendered him by the wounded man was no more than the
truth ; and as every truth has an innate strength of its
own, the provost in his heart could but admit that he
owed his life to Ascanio. He therefore put a good face
on the matter, and approached the wounded man,
saying : —

" Young man, an apartment in my hotel is at your
service."

" In your hotel, Messire Robert ! " exclaimed Cellini,
with a laugh, for his good humor returned as his anxiety
on Ascanio's account vanished; "in your hotel? Why,
do you really wish to begin the battle over again 1 "

" What ! " cried the provost, " do you claim the right
to turn my daughter and myself out of doors 1 "

" By no means, Messire. You now occupy the Petit-
Nesle. Very good ! keep the Petit-Nesle, and let us
live on such terms as good neighbors should. Be good
enough, Messire, to make no opposition to Ascanio's
being at once made comfortable in the Grand-Nesle,
where we will join him this evening. Thereafter, if you
prefer war — "

" 0 father ! " cried Colombe.

" No! peace ! " said the provost.

" There can be no peace without conditions, Monsieur
le Pr£vot. Do me the honor to accompany me to the
Grand-Nesle, or the favor to receive me at the Petit, and
we will draw up our treaty."

" I will go with you, Monsieur, " said the provost.

" So be it ! "

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 161

" Mademoiselle, " said D'Estourville then to his daugh
ter, " be good enough to return to your apartments and
await my return there."

Colombe, notwithstanding the harsh tone in which this
command was uttered, presented her forehead to her
father to kiss, and with a courtesy addressed to every
body present, so that Ascanio might come in for a share
of it, she withdrew.

Ascanio followed her with his eyes until she disap
peared. As there was nothing further to detain him in
the courtyard, he asked to be taken inside. Hermann
thereupon took him under the arms as if he were a child,
and transported him to the Grand-Nesle.

" On my word, Messire Robert, " said Benvenuto, who
had also looked after the maiden while she was in sight,
" on my word ! you were very judicious to send my late
prisoner away, and I thank you for the precaution, — on
my honor I do. I am free to say that Mademoiselle
Colombe's presence might have been prejudicial to my
interests by making me too weak, and too willing to
forget that I am a victor, to remember simply that I am
an artist, — that is to say, a lover of every perfect form and
of all divine beauty."

Messire d'Estourville acknowledged the compliment by
a decidedly ungracious contortion of his features; he
followed the goldsmith, however, without outwardly
manifesting his ill-humor, but mumbling dire threats
beneath his breath. Cellini, to put the finishing touch
to his mortification, begged him to go over his new abode
with him. The invitation was conveyed in such cour
teous terms that it was impossible to decline. The pro
vost therefore accompanied his neighbor, who showed
him no mercy, and left not a corner of the garden nor a
room in the chateau unvisited.

VOL. I. — 11

162 ASCANIO.

"Ah! this is truly magnificent," said Benvenuto when
they had finished the tour of inspection, during which
they were actuated hy widely opposed emotions. " Now,
Monsieur le PreVot, I can understand and excuse your
repugnance to give up this property ; but I need not say
that you will be most welcome whenever you may choose,
as to-day, to do me the honor of calling upon me in my
poor abode."

" You forget, Monsieur, that I am here to-day for no
other purpose than to listen to your conditions and state
my own. I am ready to listen."

" How so, Messire Robert ? On the contrary, I am at
your service. But if you choose to allow me first to
make known my wishes to you, you will then be free to
give expression to your own."

"Say on."

" First of all, the one essential clause."

"What is that?"

"It is this: —

" ARTICLE I. — Messire Robert d'Estourville doth
concede Benvenuto Cellini's right to the property called
the Grand-Nesle, doth freely abandon it to him, and
doth renounce all claim thereto forever, for himself and
his heirs."

" Accepted, " said the provost. " But if it should
please the king to take from you what he has now taken
from me, and to give to some other what he has now
given to you, I am not to be held responsible."

" Ouais ! " said Cellini, " there 's some mischievous
mental reservation hidden in that, Monsieur le Prevot.
But no matter ; I shall know how to retain what I have
won. Let us pass to the next."

" 'T is my turn, " said the provost.

" That is no more than fair. "

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 163

" ARTICLE II. — Benvenuto Cellini agrees to make
no attack upon the Petit-Nesle, which is and is to remain
the property of Robert d'Estourville ; furthermore, he
will not even attempt to gain a footing there as a neigh
bor, and under the guise of friendship."

" Very good, " said Benvenuto, " although the clause is
by no means conceived in kindness; but if the door is
thrown open to me I shall not show myself so devoid of
courtesy as to refuse to enter."

" I will give orders to avert that possibility, " retorted
the provost.

" Let us to the next."

" I continue : —

" ARTICLE III. — The first courtyard, between the
Grand and Petit Nesles, shall be common to both
estates."

" That is quite right, " said Benvenuto, " and you will
do me the justice to believe that if Mademoiselle Colombo
desires to go out, I shall not keep her a prisoner."

" Oh ! never fear : my daughter will go in and out by
a door which I undertake to have cut in the wall. I
simply wish to make sure of an entrance for carriages
and wagons."

"Is that all?"

" Yes, " replied Messire Robert. " Apropos, " he added,
" I trust that you will allow me to remove my furniture."

" That is no more than fair. Your furniture is yours,
as the Grand-Nesle is mine. Now, Messire le Prevot, let
us add one more clause to the treaty, — a clause purely
benevolent in its purpose. "

" State it."

" ARTICLE IV. and last. — Messire Robert d'Estour
ville and Benvenuto Cellini lay aside all ill-will, and
loyally and sincerely agree to abide in peace."

164 ASCANIO.

" I accept the article, but only in so far as it does not
bind me to bear aid to you against those who may attack
you. I agree to do nothing to injure you, but I do not
agree to make myself agreeable to you. "

" As to that, Monsieur le Pre'vot, you know perfectly
well that I can defend myself alone, do you not? If
there is no objection now on your part, " added Cellini,
passing the pen to him, " sign, Monsieur le Prevot, sign. "

" I will sign, " said the provost, suiting the action to
the word, and each of the contracting parties retained a
copy of the treaty.

This formality at an end, Messire d'Estourville re
turned to the Petit-Nesle, being in great haste to scold
poor Colombe for her rash expedition. Colombo hung
her head, and let him say what he chose, not hearing a
single word of his reproaches; for during all the time
that they endured the girl was engrossed by a single
longing, to ask her father for news of Ascanio. But
it was useless : try as hard as she would, she could not
force the wounded youth's name beyond her lips.

While these things were taking place on one side of
the wall, on the other side, Catherine, who had been
sent for from the church, made her entry into the Grand-
Nesle; the fascinating madcap threw herself into Ben-
venuto's arms, pressed Ascanio's hand, complimented
Hermann, made sport of Pagolo, laughed, wept, sang,
asked questions, all in the same breath. She had suf
fered terribly, for the reports of fire-arms had reached
her ears and interrupted her prayers again and again.
But now everything was all right, everybody had come
out safe and sound from the battle, save four dead and
three wounded men, and Scozzone's high spirits did
homage to both victory and victors.

When the uproar caused by Catherine's arrival had

OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS. 165

subsided in some measure, Ascanio remembered the
motive which brought the student to the spot so oppor
tunely. He turned to Benvenuto and said : —

" Master, my comrade Jacques Aubry and I were to
try our hands at a game of tennis to-day. In good
sooth, I am hardly in condition to be his partner, as our
friend Hermann says. He has assisted us so gallantly
in our undertaking, however, that I venture to beg you
to take my place."

" With all my heart, " said Benvenuto; " but you must
look to yourself, Master Jacques Aubry."

" I will try, I will try, Messire. "

" We shall sup together afterward, and you know . that
the victor will be expected to drink two bottles more
than his vanquished opponent."

"Which means that I shall be carried home dead
drunk, Master Benvenuto. Vive la joie ! this suits me.
Ah ! the devil ! there 's Simone waiting for me, too !
Pshaw ! I had to wait for her last Sunday. It 's her
turn to-day, so much the worse for her."

With that the two seized balls and rackets, and hied
them to the garden.

166 ASCANIO.

XI.

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES.

As this was the blessed Sabbath day, Benvenuto did
nothing more than play tennis, rest after playing, and
inspect his new property. But on the following day the
work of moving began, and was fully completed two
days later, by virtue of the assistance of his new com
panions. On the third day Benvenuto resumed his
modelling as calmly as if nothing had happened.

When the provost realized that he was definitively
vanquished, when he learned that Benvenuto 's studio,
tools, and workmen were actually installed at the Grand-
Nesle, rage took possession of him once more, and he
began to plot and plan for vengeance. He was in one
of his most wrathful moments when the Vicomte de Mar-
magne surprised him on the morning of this same third
day, Wednesday. Marmagne could not resist the longing
to gratify his vanity by triumphing over the sorrows and
reverses of his friends, as every man who is a coward and
an idiot loves to do.

" Well ! " he said, " I told you so, my dear Provost. "

" Ah ! is it you, Viscount? Good morning."

" Well ! was I right or wrong ? "

" Alas ! right. Are you well ? "

" At all events I have no reason to reproach myself in
this accursed business. I gave you sufficient warning."

" Has the king returned to the Louvre 1 "

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 167

" ' Nonsense ! ' you said ; ' a workman , a nobody, a
fine sight it will be ! ' You have seen it, my poor friend. "

" I asked you if his Majesty has returned from
Fontainebleau ? "

" Yes, and he keenly regrets not having reached Paris
on Sunday, in order to look on from one of his towers at
his goldsmith's victory over his provost."

" What is said at court ? "

"Why, they say that you were thoroughly whipped."

" Hum ! " said the provost, who began to be annoyed
by this desultory conversation.

" How was it ? Did he really give you such an igno
minious whipping ? "

« Why — "

" He killed two of your men, did he not ? "

"I think so."

" If you wish to replace them, I have two Italian
bravos, consummate fighting-men, who are quite at your
service. You will have to pay them well, but they are
sure men."

" We shall see : I won't say no. If not for myself, I
may require them for my son in law, Comte d'Orbec. "

" Whatever they may say, I cannot believe that this
Benvenuto cudgelled you personally."

" Who says so ? "

" Everybody. Some are indignant, like myself ; others
laugh, like the king."

" Enough! we have not seen the end of this affair."

" Ah ! you were very wrong to compromise yourself
with such a clown, and for such a paltry affair ! "

" I shall fight for my honor henceforth."

" If there had been a woman in the affair, why, you
might properly have drawn your sword against such peo
ple : but for a mere place to sleep in — "

168 ASCANIO.

"The Hotel de Nesle is a place for princes to
sleep in."

" Agreed ; but even so, think of exposing yourself for
such a matter to be chastised by a blackguard ! "

" Ah ! I have an idea, Marmagne, " said the provost.
'' Parbleu ! you are so devoted to me that I long to ren
der you a friendly service, and I am delighted to have
the opportunity now. For a nobleman, and secretary to
the king, you are wretchedly located on Rue de la
Huchette, my dear Viscount. Now I recently requested
for a friend of mine, from the Duchesse d'Etampes, who
refuses nothing that I ask, apartments in such one of the
king's palaces as my friend might select. I obtained
the privilege for him, not without difficulty, but it so
happens that he has been called to Spain on urgent busi
ness. I have therefore at my disposal the document
signed by the king containing this grant of apartments.
I cannot make use of it myself; will you have it? I
should be happy to acknowledge thus your services and
your generous friendship."

" Dear D'Estourville, how can I ever repay you ?
It is quite true that I am living in very unsuitable
quarters, and I have complained to the king a score
of times."

" I shall insist upon one condition."

"What is that?"

" That, inasmuch as you are at liberty to take your
choice among all the royal hotels, you will choose — "

" Go on, I am waiting."

" The Hotel de Nesle."

" Aha! you were laying a trap for me."

" Not at all ; and to show you that I am speaking seri
ously, here is the document, duly signed by his Majesty,
with the necessary blanks for the name of the beneficiary,

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 169

and of the place selected. I will write the H6tel du
Grand-Nesle, and leave you to insert such names as yo>*
choose. "

" But this damned Benvenuto ? "

" Is entirely off his guard, relying upon a treaty we
entered into and signed. Whoever cares to enter will
find the doors open, and if on a Sunday he will find the
rooms empty. In any event, it 's not a matter of turn
ing Benvenuto out, hut simply of sharing the Grand-
Nesle with him ; for it is quite large enough for three or
four families. Benvenuto will hear reason. — Well ! what
are you doing now ? "

" I am writing my names and titles in the grant. Do
you see ? "

" Beware ! Benvenuto is more to be feared ihan you
think."

" Bah ! I will take my two fire-eaters and surprise him
some Sunday."

" What ! compromise yourself with a clown for such a
trifling matter ? "

" A victor is always right ; and then, too, I shall he
avenging a friend."

" Good luck to you then ; I have given you fair
warning, Marmagne."

"Thanks twice over, — once for the gift and once for
the warning."

And Marmagne, delighted beyond measure, thrust the
precious paper in his pocket, and set out in all haste to
make sure of his two bravos.

" Very good ! " said Messire d'Estourville, rubbing his
hands and looking after him. " Go on, Viscount, and
one of two things will come of it, — either you will
avenge me for Benvenuto's victory, or Benvenuto will
avenge me for your sarcasm ; in any case, I shall be the

170 ASCANIO.

gainer. I make my enemies enemies of each other; let
them fight and kill; I will applaud every blow on either
side, for all will be equally gratifying to me."

Let us now cross the Seine and look in upon the
occupants of the Grand-Nesle, and see how they were
employing their time, pending the results of the pro
vost's militant hatred.

Benvenuto, in the tranquil confidence of conscious
strength, had quietly resumed the work he had in hand,
without suspecting or caring for Messire d'Estourville's
animosity. His day was divided thus. He rose at day
break, and went at once to a small, isolated room that he
had discovered in the garden, above the foundry, with a
window from which one could look obliquely into the
flower garden of the Petit-Nesle; there he worked during
the forenoon upon the model of a small statue of Hebe.
After dinner, that is to say, at one o'clock in the after
noon, he went to the studio and worked at his Jupiter;
in the evening, for relaxation, he played a game of ten
nis, or went for a walk.

Now let us see how Catherine employed her time.
She sewed and sang and ran hither and thither, instinct
with joyous life, much more at her ease in the Grand-
Nesle than at the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace.

Ascanio, whose wound made it impossible for him to
work, did not find the time irksome, notwithstanding the
activity of his mind, for he was dreaming.

If now, availing ourselves of the thief's privilege of
climbing walls, we enter the Petit-Nesle, this is what
we shall see there. In the first place, Colombe, in
her chamber, dreaming like Ascanio. We beg leave to
pause here for the moment; all that we can say is, that,
while Ascanio's dreams were rose-colored, poor Colombe's
were black as night. And then here is Pame Perrine

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 171

just setting out to market, and we must, if you please,
follow her for an instant.

For a long time — so at least it seems to us — we have
lost sight of the good dame ; indeed, it must be said that
courage was not her predominating virtue, and amid the
perilous encounters we have described she had purposely
kept herself out of sight. But when peace began to
bloom once more, the roses reappeared in her cheeks,
and as Benvenuto resumed his artistic labors she peace
ably resumed her joyous humor, her chattering, her gos
sip's inquisitiveness, — in a word, the practice of all the
excellent housewifely qualities.

Dame Perrine on her way to market was obliged to
pass across the common courtyard, for the new door for
the Petit-Nesle was not yet made. Now it happened,
by the merest chance, that E-uperta, Benvenuto's old
maid-servant, was setting out at precisely the same mo
ment to purchase her master's dinner. These two esti
mable individuals were much too well suited to each other
to share the antipathies of their masters; so they walked
along together on the best possible terms, and, as talking
shortens the longest road by half, they talked.

Kuperta began by inquiring of Dame Perrine the price
of various articles, and the names of the dealers in
the quarter: from that they passed to more interesting
subjects.

" Is your master such a terrible man ? " queried Dame
Perrine.

" Terrible 1 when you don't offend him he is as gentle
as a Jesus; but, dame! when one doesn't do as he
wishes, I must say that he 's riot very agreeable. He is
fond, oh ! very fond, of having his own way. That 's
his mania ; and when he once gets a thing in his head,
all the five hundred thousand devils in hell can't drive it

1 72 ASCANIO.

out. But you can lead him like a child by pretending to
obey him, and it 's very pleasant to hear him talk. You
should hear him say to me, 'Dame Ruperta,' (lie calls
me Ruperta in his strange pronunciation, although my
real name is Ruperte, at your service,) 'Dame Ruperta,
this is an excellent leg of mutton, and done to a turn ;
Dame Ruperta, your heans are seasoned most trium
phantly ; Dame Ruperta, I look upon you as the queen
of governesses, ' — and all this so winningly that it
touches one to the heart."

" A la bonne heure! But he kills people, they say."

" Oh yes ! when he 's crossed, he kills very handily.
It 's a custom of his country ; but it 's only when he 's
attacked, and then only in self-defence. Otherwise he
is very light-hearted and prepossessing."

" I have n't seen him myself. He has red hair,
hasn't he?"

" No indeed ! His hair is as black as yours and
mine, — as mine was, that is. Ah! you have never seen
him ? Well, just come in casually some time to borrow
something, and I '11 show him to you. He 's a hand
some man, and would make a superb archer."

" Apropos of handsome men, how is our comely youth
to-day 1 The wounded man, I mean, the attractive young
apprentice who received such a terrible wound in saving
the provost's life."

" Ascanio 1 Pray do you know him ? "

" Do I know him ! He promised my young mistress
Colombe and nryself to show us his jewels. Remind
him of it, if you please, my dear madame. But all this
does n't answer my question, and Colombe will be very
glad to know that her father's savior is out of danger."

" Oh ! you can tell her that he is doing very well.
He got up just now. But the surgeon has forbidden his

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 173

leaving his room, although I think a breath of fresh air
would do him a world of good. It 's out of the question,
though, in this burning sun. Your Grand-Nesle garden
is a veritable desert. Not a shaded spot anywhere ; no
vegetation but nettles and briers, and four or five leafless
trees. It's enormous, but very unpleasant to walk in.
Our master consoles himself with tennis, but poor As-
canio is n't well enough yet to hold a racket, and must
be bored to death. He 's so active, the dear boy, — I
speak of him in that way because he 's my favorite, and
is always courteous to his elders. He 's not like that
bear of a Pagolo, or Catherine the giddy-pate."

" And you say that the poor fellow — "

" Must be eating his heart out with having to pass
whole days on a couch in his bedroom."

" Mon Dieu ! " exclaimed kind-hearted Dame Perrine,
" pray tell the poor boy to come over to the Petit-Nesle,
where there is such beautiful shade. I will gladly admit
him, although Messire le Prevot has expressly forbidden
it. Why, it would be most virtuous in me to disobey
him, in order to benefit the man who saved his life.
And you talk of ennui ! We are the ones who are dry
ing up with it. The comely apprentice will divert us;
he will tell us tales of his Italy, and show us his neck
laces and bracelets, and chatter with Colombe. Young
folks like to be together and prattle, and they languish
in solitude. So it 's agreed, is n't it 1 Just tell your
Benjamin that he 's at liberty to come and walk in our
garden whenever he pleases, provided he comes alone, or
with you, Dame Ruperte, to give him your arm. Knock
four times, the first three gently and the last louder: I
shall know what it means, and I will come and open the
door."

" Thanks for Ascanio and myself; I will not fail to

174 ASCANIO.

tell him of your amiable offer, and h« will not fail to
avail himself of it."

" I am delighted to think so, Dame Ruperte. "

" Au revoirt Dame Perrine ! Charmed to have made
the acquaintance of such an estimable person."

" The same to you, Dame Ruperte."

Tfee two gossips bowed low to each other, and parted
with mutual satisfaction.

The gardens of the Sejour de Nesle were in truth, as
Ruperta said, dry and scorched on one side of the wall,
cdol and shady as a forest on the other. The provost's
miserly instinct led him to leave the garden of the Grand-
Nesle uncared for, as the cost of keeping it in condition
would have been considerable, and he was not sufficiently
sure of his title to renew, perhaps for the benefit of his
successor, the trees which he had lost no time in cutting
down as soon as he took possession. His daughter's
presence at the Petit-Nesle accounted for his leaving
the shady thickets there untouched, as the poor child
had no other recreation than to sit beneath them. Raim-
bault and his -two assistants sufficed to keep Colombo's
garden in order, and even to embellish it somewhat.

It was laid out and planted in extremely good taste.
At the back was the kitchen garden, Dame Perrine 's
kingdom; along the wall dividing it from the Grand-
Nesle Colombe had her flower garden, called by Dame
Perrine the Morning Avenue, because the sun's early
rays fell full upon it, and sunrise was the time ordinarily
selected by Colombe to water her marguerites and roses.
Let us note, in passing, that from the room over the
foundry in the Grand-Nesle one could see every move
ment of the lovely gardener without being seen. Fol
lowing out Dame Perrine's geographical nomenclature,
there was the Noonday Avenue, terminated by a thicket

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 175

where Colombo loved to sit, and read or embroider,
during the heat of the day. At the other end of the
garden was the Evening Avenue, planted with a triple
row of lindens, which made it delightfully cool and
fresh : it was here that Colombo was accustomed to walk
after supper.

This last named avenue Dame Perrine had in flttifrd as
a spot well adapted to hasten the convalescence of the
wounded Ascanio. She was very careful, however, to
say nothing to Colombo of her charitable intentions. It
was possible that she would be too obedient to her
father's commands, and would refuse to concur in her
governess's open defiance of them. And in that case
what would Dame Ruperta think of her neighbor's author
ity and influence ? No ; since she had gone so far, per
haps a little recklessly, she must go on to the end.
Indeed, the good woman's offence was excusable when
we reflect that she had no one but Colombo to whom she
could speak from morning till night, and more often
than not Colombo was so deeply absorbed in her own
thoughts that she did not reply.

The reader will readily understand Ascanio's ecstasy
when he learned that paradise was open to him, and how
fervently he blessed Ruperta. He insisted upon availing
himself of his good fortune on the instant, and Ruperta
had all the difficulty in the world in persuading him that
he ought at least to wait until evening. He had every
reason to believe that Dame Perrine's suggestion was
made with Colombo's sanction, and that thought made
him mad with joy. With how great impatience, there
fore, mingled with vague alarm, did he count the drag
ging hours ! At last, at last, the clock struck five. The
apprentices left the studio. Benvenuto had been away
since noon, and was believed to have gone to the Louvre.

176 ASCANIO.

Thereupon Ruperta said solemnly to the apprentice,
who gazed at her as she had not been gazed at for many
a year: —

" ^"ow that the time has come, follow me, young man. "

They, crossed the courtyard together, and she knocked
four times at the door leading into the precincts of the
PetflKsie.

" Say nothing of this to the master, good Ruperta, "
said Ascanio, who knew that Cellini was a good deal of
a scorer and sceptic in the matter of love, and did not
choose^Jfc*have his pure flame profaned by his witticisms.

Ruperta was on the point of making inquiries as to the
reason for this injunction, which it would be hard for
her to obey, when the door opened and Dame Perrine
appeared.

" Come in, my fine fellow, " she said. " How are you
to-day ? Pallor becomes you, do you know : it 's a pleas
ure to look at you. Come in also, Dame Ruperta : take
the path to the left, young man, Colombe is just coming
down to the garden ; it 's the time when she always walks.
Do you try and persuade her not to scold me too severely
for admitting you. "

"What!" cried Ascanio, — "Mademoiselle Colombe
does n't know — "

"No indeed! Do you think she would have con
sented to disobey her father t I have brought her up on
correct principles. I disobeyed for both, myself. Faith !
I don't care ! we can't always live like hermits. Raim-
bault won't see anything, or, if he does, I have a way to
make him hold his tongue ; if worse comes to worst, it
won't be the first time I have held my own against Mon
sieur le Prdvot ! "

Dame Perrine was very loquacious concerning her
master, but Ruperta alone followed her in what she

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 177

said. Ascanio was standing still, listening to nothing
save the beating of his heart. He did, however, hear
these words, let fall by Dame Perrine as they moved
away : —

" This is the path where Colombe walks every evening,
and she will soon be here without doubt. You see^that
the sun won't reach you here, my gallant invalid. "\i

Ascanio expressed his thanks with a gesture, and walked
forward a few steps, once more immersed in his reverie,
and anticipating what was to come with mingled anxiety
and impatience. He heard Dame Perrine say to Kuperta
as they walked along, —

" This is Colombe 's favorite bench."

And upon that he left the two gossips to continue their
walk and their conversation, and sat softly down without
a word upon the sacred seat.

What was his purpose ? whither was he going ? He
had no idea. He sought Colombe because she was young
and fair, and he was young and fair. No ambitious
thought had ever entered his head in connection with
her. To be near her was his only desire : for the rest
he put his trust in God, or, rather, he did not look so
far into the future. There is no to-morrow in love.

Colombe, for her part, had thought more than once,
and in spite of herself, of the young stranger who had
appeared to her in her loneliness as Gabriel appeared to
Mary. To see him once more had been from the first
the secret desire of this child, who had hitherto had no
desire. But, being abandoned by an inconsiderate father
to the guardianship of her own virtue, she was too high-
minded not to deal with herself with the severity which
noble souls never think themselves free to dispense with
unless their will is fettered. She therefore 'bravely put
aside her thoughts of Ascanio, and yet those thoughts

VOL. I. — 12

1 78 ASCANIO.

persisted in forcing a way through the triple ramparts
Colombe had built around her heart, more easily than
Ascanio made his way through the wall of the Grand-
Nesle. So it was that Colombe had passed the three or
four days since the engagement, alternating between the
fear of not seeing Ascanio again, and alarm at the thought
of being in his presence. Her only consolation was to
dream of him as she sat at her work or walked in the
garden. During the day she shut herself up in her own
room, to the despair of Dame Perrine, who was thereby
doomed to carry on a perpetual monologue in the abyss
of her own thoughts. As soon as the intense heat of the
day had gone by, she would go down to the cool, shady
path, poetically christened by Dame Perrine the Evening
Avenue, and there, sitting on the bench where Ascanio
now sat, she would allow the sun to set and the stars to
rise, listening and replying to her thoughts, until Dame
Perrine came to tell her that it was time to retire.

At the usual hour, then, the young man saw Colombe
suddenly appear, book in hand, at the end of the path
where he was sitting. She was reading the " Lives of
the Saints, " a dangerous romance of faith and love, well
adapted, perhaps, to prepare one for the cruel sufferings
of life, but not, surely, for the cold realities of the world.
Colombe did not see Ascanio at first, but started back in
surprise when she saw a strange woman with Dame
Perrine. At that decisive moment, Dame Perrine, like
a determined general, plunged boldly to the heart of the
question.

" Dear Colombe, " she said, " I know your kind heart so
well that 1 did n't think I needed your express sanction
to allow a poor wounded youth, who received his wound
in your father's cause, to cpme and take the air under
these trees. You know there is no shade at the Grand-

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 179

Nesle, and the surgeon won't answer for his life unless
he can walk an hour every day. "

While she was uttering this well intentioned but
barefaced falsehood, Colombe suddenly spied Ascanio,
and a vivid flush suffused her cheeks. The apprentice,
meanwhile, in the presence of Colombe, could hardly
summon strength to rise to his feet.

u It was n't my sanction that was necessary, Dame
Perrine, " said the maiden at last, " but my father's. "

As she said these words, sadly but firmly, Colombe
reached the stone bench upon which Ascanio had been
sitting.

He overheard her, and said, with clasped hands : —

"Forgive me, Madame. I thought — I hoped that
your kindness had ratified Dame Perrine's courteous
offer ; but if it is not so, " he continued, in a tone of great
gentleness, not unmixed with pride, " I beg you to excuse
my involuntary boldness, and I will withdraw at once."

" But it is not for me to decide, " replied Catherine
hastily, deeply moved. " I am not mistress here. Re
main to-day at all events, even if my father's prohibition
was meant to extend to him who saved his life : remain,
Monsieur, if for nothing else than to receive my thanks."

" 0 Madame ! " murmured Ascanio, " it is for me to
thank you, and I do so from the bottom of my heart.
But by remaining shall I not interfere with your walk ?
The place I have taken, too, is ill chosen."

"Not at all," rejoined Colombe mechanically, without
apparently paying attention, so embarrassed was she, to
the other end of the stone bench.

At that moment Dame Perrine, who had not stirred
since Colombo's mortifying reprimand, growing weary of
her own immobility and her young mistress's silence, took
Dame Ruperta's arm and walked softly away.

180 ASCANIO.

The young people were left alone.

Colombe, whose eyes were fixed upon her book, did
not at first observe the departure of her governess, and
yet she was not reading, for there was a mist before her
eyes. She was still excited and dizzy. All that she was
capable of doing, and that she did instinctively, was to
conceal her agitation, and repress the violent beating of
her heart. Ascanio, too, was beside himself; he was
excessively pained when he thought that Colombe desired
to send him away, and insanely happy when he fancied
that he could detect signs of emotion in his inamorata ;
and these sudden alternations of emotion in his enfeebled
state transported and unnerved him at the same time.
He was like one in a swoon, and yet his thoughts fol
lowed upon one another's heels with astounding rapidity
and force. " She despises me ! she loves me ! " he said
to himself almost in the same breath. He glanced at
Colombe, silent and still, and the tears rolled down his
cheeks, although he felt them not. Meanwhile a bird
was singing in the branches overhead; the leaves were
scarcely stirring in the gentle breeze. From the Augus
tine church the evening Angelus came floating softly
downward through the air. Never was July evening
more calm and peaceful. It was one of Nature's solemn
moments, when the soul enters a new sphere, — one of
those moments which seem twenty years, and which one
remembers all his life.

The two lovely children, so well suited to each other,
had but to move their hands to join them, and yet it
seemed as if there were a yawning gulf between them.

After a moment or two Colombe raised her head : —

" You are weeping ! " she cried, obeying an impulse
stronger than her will.

" I am not weeping, " said Ascanio, falling back upon

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 181

the bench; but his hands were wet with tears when he
took them from his face.

" It is true," he said, " I am weeping."

" Why, what is the matter ? I will call some one.
Are you in pain ? "

" Only from my thoughts."

" What thoughts, pray ? "

" I was thinking that perhaps it would have been
better for me to die the other day."

" Die ! How old are you, pray, that you should talk
thus of dying ? "

" Nineteen : but the age of unhappiness is a fit age for
death."

" And what of your kindred, who would weep for you ? "
said Colombe, unconsciously eager for a glimpse into the
past of this life, of which she had a confused feeling that
the future would be involved with her own.

" I have no father or mother, and there is no one to
weep for me save my master, Benvenuto."

" Poor orphan ! "

" Yes, an orphan indeed ! My father never loved me,
and I lost my mother at ten years, just when I was begin
ning to understand her love and return it. My father —
But what am I saying, and what are my father and my
mother to you ? "

" Oh, yes! Go on, Ascanio."

" Saints in heaven ! you remember my name ! "

" Go on, go on, " whispered Colombe, putting her
hands before her face to hide her blushes.

" My father was a goldsmith, and my dear mother was
herself the daughter of a Florentine goldsmith, named
Kaphael del Moro, of a noble Italian family ; for in our
Italian republics, to work implies no dishonor, and you
will see more than one ancient and illustrious name on

182 ASCANIO.

the sign of a shop. My master, Cellini, for example, is
as noble as the King of France, if not even more so.
Raphael del Moro, who was poor, compelled his daughter
Stefana to marry, against her will, a fellow goldsmith
almost of his own age, but very wealthy. Alas! my
mother and Benvenuto Cellini loved each other, but
were both fortuneless. Benvenuto was travelling every
where to make a name for himself and earn money. He
was far away, and could not interfere to prevent the mar
riage. Gismondo Gaddi (that was my father's name)
soon began to detest his wife because she did not love
him, although he never knew that she loved somebody
else. My father was a man of a violent and jealous dis
position. May he forgive me if I accuse him wrongfully,
but children have a relentless memory for their wrongs.
Very often my mother sought shelter by my cradle from
his brutal treatment, but he did not always respect that
sanctuary. Sometimes he struck her, may God forgive
him! while she held me in her arms: and at every blow
my mother would give me a kiss to help deaden the
pain. Ah! I remember well both the blows my mother
received and the kisses she gave me.

" The Lord, who is just, dealt a blow at my father
where he would feel it most keenly, — in his wealth,
which was dearer to him than anything else in the world.
Disaster after disaster overwhelmed him. He died of
grief because his money was all gone, and my mother
died a few days after, because she thought that she was
no longer beloved.

" I was left alone in the world. My father's credi
tors laid hands upon all that he left, and, in all their
ferreting to make sure that they had forgotten nothing,
they failed to discover a little weeping child. An old
maid-servant who was fond of me kept me two days from

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 183

charity, but she was living on charity herself, and had
none too much bread for her own needs.

" She was uncertain what to do with me, when a man
covered with dust entered the room, took me in his arms,
embraced me, weeping, and, having given the good old
woman some money, took me away with him. It was
Benvenuto Cellini, who had come from Rome to Florence
expressly to find me. He cherished me, instructed me
in his art, and kept me always with him, and, as I say
he is the only one who would weep for my death."

Colombe listened with lowered eyes and oppressed
heart to the orphan's story, whic.h in the matter of loneli
ness was her own, and to the story of the poor mother's
life, which would perhaps be hers some day; for she too
was doomed to marry against her will a man who would
hate her because she would not love him.

" You are unjust to God," she said to Ascanio; " there
is some one, your kind master at least, who loves you,
and you knew your mother. I cannot remember my
mother's kisses, for she died in giving birth to me. I
was brought up by my father's sister, a crabbed, ill-tem
pered woman, and yet I mourned her bitterly when I
lost her two years ago, for in the absence of any other
affection my heart clung to her as ivy clings to a cliff.
For two years I have been living in this place with Dame
Perrine, and notwithstanding my loneliness, and although
my father comes very rarely to see me, these two years
have been and will be the happiest of my whole life."

" You have indeed suffered much, " said Ascanio, " but
though the past has been so painful, why do you dread
the future? Yours, alas! is full of glorious promise.
You are nobly born, rich, and beautiful^ and the shadow
of your early years will only bring out in bolder relief
the splendor of the rest of your life."

184 ASCANIO.

Colombe sadly shook her head.

" Oh mother! mother! " she murmured.

When, rising in thought above the paltry present, one
loses sight of the trivial necessities of the moment in the
brilliant flashes which illuminate and epitomize a whole
life, past and future, the heart is sometimes affected with
a dangerous vertigo; and when one's memory is laden
with a thousand sorrows, when one dreads bitter anguish
to come, the same heart is often a prey to terrible emo
tion and fatal weakness. One must be very strong not
to fall when the weight of destiny is pressing down upon
one's heart. These two children, who had already suf
fered so much, who had been always alone, had but to
pronounce a single word to make a single future for their
twofold past; but one was too dutiful, the other too
respectful, to pronounce that word.

Ascanio gazed at Colombe, however, with infinite ten
derness in his eyes, and Colombe permitted his scrutiny
with divine trust. With clasped hands, and in the tone
in which he might have prayed, the apprentice said to
the maiden : —

" Colombe, if you have any desire which I can gratify
by pouring out all my blood to gratify it, if any disaster
threatens you, and nothing more than a life is needed to
avert it, say one word to me, Colombe, as you might say
it to your brother, and I shall be very happy."

" Thanks, thanks ! " said Colombe ; " I know that you
have already nobly risked your life once at a word from
me; but God alone can save me this time."

She had no time to say more, for Dame Perrine and
Dame Ruperta stopped in front of them at that moment.

The gossips had made the most of their time, as well
as the two lovers, and had formed a close alliance, based
upon mutual sympathy. Dame Perrine had confided to

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 185

Dame Ruperta an infallible cure for chilblains, and
Dame Ruperta, not to be outdone, had imparted to Dame
Perrine the secret of preserving plums. After such an
exchange of confidence, it is easy to understand that they
were thenceforth united for life and death, and they had
agreed to meet frequently, whatever the cost. *

"Well, Colombo," said Dame Perrine, as they drew
nigh the bench, " do you still bear me a grudge ? Tell
me, would n't it have been a shame to refuse admission
to him but for whom the house would have no master ?
Should n't we do our utmost to help cure this youth of a
wound received for us? Look, Dame Ruperta, and see
if he does n't already look better, and if he has n't more
color than when he came."

" Yes indeed, " assented Ruperta, " he never had more
color when he was in the best of health. "

" Consider, Colombe, " continued Dame Perrine, " it
would be downright murder to interrupt convalescence
so happily begun. Come, the end justifies the means.
You will allow me to admit him to-morrow at dusk,
won't you ? It will be a pleasant change for you as well,
poor child, and a very innocent one, God knows, when
Dame Ruperta and I are both here. Upon my word,
Colombe, you need some sort of a change. And who is
there to tell the provost that we have softened his stern
orders a bit1? And remember that, before he gave the
order, you told Ascanio that he might come and show
you his jewels; he forgot them to-day, so he must bring
them to-morrow."

Colombe looked at Ascanio; the color had fled from
his cheeks, and he was awaiting her reply, in an agony of
suspense.

In the eyes of a poor girl, kept a prisoner and tyran
nized over, there was a world of flattery in this humility.

186 ASCANIO.

There was then some one in the world whose happi
ness depended upon her, whom she could make glad 01
sad with a word ! Every one exults in his own power.
The insolent airs of Comte d'Orbec had humiliated Co-
lombe very recently. The hapless prisoner — forgive
her, pray ! — could not resist the longing to see the joy
ful light shine in Ascanio's eyes, so she said, with a blush
and a smile, —

" Dame Perrine, what is this you have persuaded me
to do ? "

Ascanio tried to speak, but could only clasp his hands
effusively; his knees trembled under him.

" Thanks, fair lady ! " said Ruperta, with a deep cour
tesy. " Come, Ascanio, you are still weak, and it is
time to go in. Give me your arm, and let us go."

The apprentice could hardly muster strength to say
" Adieu " and " Thanks ! " but he supplemented his
words with a look in which his heart spoke volumes,
and meekly followed the servant, his whole being over
flowing with joy.

Colombe fell back upon the bench, absorbed in thought,
and conscious of a pleasurable excitement, for which she
reproached herself, and which was entirely unfamiliar to
her.

" Until to-morrow ! " said Dame Perrine, trium
phantly, as she took leave of her guests after escorting
them to the door; "if you choose, young man, you can
come in this way every day for three months. "

" And why for three months only 1 " asked Ascanio,
who had dreamed of coming always.

" Dame ! " was Dame Perrine's reply, " because in
three months Colombe is to marry Comte d'Orbec.

Ascanio needed all the strength of his will to keep
from falling.

OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES. 187

"Colombo to marry Comte d'Orbec!" he muttered.
" 0 mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! so I deceived myself ! Co
lombe does not love me! "

As Dame Perrine closed the door behind him at that
moment, and Dame Ruperta was walking in front of
him, neither of them overheard.

188 ASCANIO.

XII.
THE KING'S QUEEN.

WE have said that Benvenuto left the studio about noon
without saying whither he was going. He went to the
Louvre to return the visit Fran9ois I. paid him at the
Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel.

The king had kept his word. The name of Benvenuto
Cellini was given to all the doorkeepers and ushers, and
all the doors flew open before him, — all the doors save
one, that leading to the council chamber. Fra^ois was
discussing affairs of state with the first men in his
realm, and, although the king's orders were explicit,
they dared- not introduce Cellini in the midst of the
momentous session then in progress without further
instructions from his Majesty.

In truth, France was at this time in a critical situa
tion. We have thus far said but little of affairs of state,
feeling sure that our readers, especially those of the gen
tler sex, would prefer affairs of the heart to politics ; but
we have at last reached a point where we can no longer
draw back, and where we must needs cast a glance, which
we will make as brief as possible, at France and Spain,
or rather at Franqois I. and Charles V., for in the six
teenth century kings were nations.

At the period at which we have arrived, by virtue of
one of the periodical movements of the political see-saw,
of which both so often felt the effects, Francois's situa
tion had recently improved, and Charles's grown worse

THE KING'S QUEEN. 189

in equal degree. In fact, things had changed materially
since the Treaty of Cambrai, which was negotiated by
two women, Margaret of Austria, aunt of Charles V.,
and the Duchesse d'Angouleme, mother of Fra^ois I.
This treaty, which was the complement of the treaty of
Madrid, provided that the King of Spain should cede
Burgundy to the King of France, and that the King of
France should renounce his claim to the homage of
Flanders and Artois. Furthermore, the two young
princes, who served as hostages for their father, were
to be sent back to him in exchange for the sum of two
millions of golden crowns. Lastly, good Queen Eleanora,
Charles V.'s sister, who was promised at first to the
Constable (Bourbon) as a reward for his treachery, and
was afterwards married to Francois as a pledge of peace,
was to return to the court of France with the two chil
dren, to whom she had been as affectionate and devoted
as any mother. These stipulations were carried out with
equal good faith on both sides.

But it will readily be believed that Frangois's renun
ciation of his claim to the Duchy of Milan, exacted from
him during his captivity, was only momentary. He was
no sooner a free man once more, no sooner restored to
power and health, than he turned his eyes again toward
Italy. It was with the object of procuring countenance
of his claims at the Court of Rome that he had married
his son Henri, become Dauphin by the death of his elder
brother Francois, to Catherine de Medicis, niece of Pope
Clement VII.

Unfortunately, just at the moment when all the prepa
rations for the king's meditated invasion were completed,
Clement VII. died, and was succeeded by Alexander
Farnese, who ascended the throne of St. Peter under the
name of Paul III.

190 ASCANIO.

•

Now Paul III. was determined not to allow himself to
be inveigled into supporting the party of the Emperor, or
of the King of France, but tor adhere strictly to the policy
of holding an equal balance between them.

With his mind at ease in that direction, the Emperor
laid aside all anxiety on the subject of the preparations
of France, and busied himself fitting out an expedition
against Tunis, which had been seized by the corsair
Cher-Eddin, so famous under the name of Barbarossa,
who, having driven out Muley Hassan, had taken pos
session of the country, and was laying Sicily waste.

The expedition was entirely successful, and Charles V.,
after destroying three or four ships, sailed into the Bay
of Naples in triumph.

There he received tidings which tended to encourage
him still more. Charles III., Duke of Savoy, although
he was the maternal xincle of Francois I., had followed
the counsel of his new wife, Beatrice, daughter of Em
manuel of Portugal, and had abandoned the party of the
King of France ; so that when Francois, by virtue of his
former treaties with Charles III., called upon him to
receive his troops, the Duke of Savoy answered by re
fusing to do so, and Francois was reduced to the unenvi
able necessity of forcing the passage of the Alps, which
he had hoped to find open to him by favor of his ally
and kinsman.

But Charles V. was awakened from his feeling of se
curity by a veritable thunder-clap. The king marched
an army into Savoy so promptly that the duke found his
province actually under occupation by the French troops
before he suspected that it was invaded. Biron, who
was in command of the army, seized Chambdry, appeared
upon the Alpine passes, and threatened Piedmont just as
Francesco Sforza, terror-stricken doubtless by the news

THE KING'S QUEEN. 191

of Biron's success, died suddenly, leaving the Dnchy of
Milan without an heir, and thereby not only making its
conquest an easy matter for Francois, but giving him a
strong claim to it as well.

Biron marched down into Italy, and seized Turin.
There he halted, pitched his camp on the banks of the
Sesia, and awaited developments.

Charles V. meanwhile had left Naples for Kome. The
victory he had won over the long-time enemies of Christ
procured him the honor of a triumphal entry into the
capital of Christendom. This entry intoxicated the Em
peror to such a point, that, contrary to his custom, he
went beyond all bounds, and in full consistory accused
Francois I. of heresy, basing the accusation upon the
protection he accorded the Protestants, and upon his
alliance with the Turks. Having recapitulated all their
former caxises of disagreement, wherein, according to his
view, Francois was always the first at fault, he swore to
wage a war of extermination against his brother-in-law.

His disasters in the past had made Francois as pru
dent as he formerly was reckless. And so, as soon as he
found himself threatened at one time by the forces of
Spain and of the Empire, he left D'Annebaut to guard
Turin, and called Biron back to France, Avith orders to
devote himself entirely to protecting the frontiers.

Those who were familiar with the chivalrous and en
terprising character of Francois were at a loss to under
stand this retrograde movement, and supposed from his
taking one backward step that he considered himself
whipped in advance. This belief still further exalted
the pride of Charles V. ; he took command of his army
in person, and resolved upon invading France from the
south.

The results of this attempted invasion are well known.

192 ASCANIO.

Marseilles, which had held out against the Conn^table
de Bourbon and the Marquis of Pescara, the two greatest
soldiers of the time, had no difficulty in holding out
against Charles V., a great politician, but of only moder
ate capacity as a general. Charles was not discouraged,
but left Marseilles behind, and attempted to march upon
Avignon ; but Montmorency had constructed an impreg
nable camp between the Durance and the Rhone, against
which Charles expended his force to no purpose. So
that, after six weeks of fruitless endeavor, repulsed in
front, harassed upon the flanks, and in great danger of
having his retreat cut off, he ordered a retreat which
strongly resembled a rout, and, having narrowly escaped
falling into his enemy's hands, succeeded with great
difficulty in reaching Barcelona, where he arrived with
out men or money.

Thereupon all those who were awaiting the issue of
his expedition to declare themselves declared against
Charles V. Henry VIII. cast off his wife, Catherine of
Aragon, in order to espouse his mistress, Anne Boleyn
Soliman attacked the kingdom of Naples and Hungary.
The Protestant princes of Germany entered into a secret
league against the Emperor. Lastly, the people of Ghent,
weary of the incessant burdens imposed upon them to
defray the expense of the war against France, suddenly
rose in revolt, and sent ambassadors to Fran§ois to invite
him to place himself at their head.

But amid this universal upheaval, which threatened to
destroy the Emperor's fortunes, new negotiations were
entered upon by the King of France and himself. The
two monarchs had an interview at Aigues-Mortes, and
Francis, bent upon peace, which he felt to be an abso
lute necessity for France, was determined thenceforth to
rely upon friendly negotiations to effect his objects, and
not upon an armed struggle.

THE KING'S QUEEN. 193

He therefore caused Charles to be informed of the
proposition of the men of Ghent, offering him at the
same time liberty to pass through France on his way to
Flanders.

The council had been called together to discuss this
subject, when Benvenuto knocked at the door, and Fran-
gois, true to his promise, as soon as he was advised of
the great artist's presence, ordered that he be admitted.
Benvenuto therefore heard the end of the discussion.

" Yes, messieurs, " Francois was saying, " yes, I agree
with Monsieur de Montmorency, and it is my dream
to conclude a lasting alliance with the Emperor elect,
to raise our two thrones above all the rest of Christen
dom, and to wipe out all these corporations, communes,
and popular assemblies which assume to set bounds to
our royal power by refusing us to-day the arms, to-mor
row the money, of our subjects. My dream is to force
back into the bosom of the true religion all the heresies
which distress our holy Mother Church. My dream is,
lastly, to unite all our forces against the enemies of
Christ, to drive the Turkish Sultan from Constantinople,
were it only to prove that he is not, as he is alleged to
be, my ally, and to establish at Constantinople a second
empire rivalling the first in power, in splendor, and in
extent. That is my dream, messieurs, and I have given
it that name so that I may not allow myself to be un
duly exalted by hope of success, nor unduly cast down
if the future shall demonstrate, as it may, its impracti
cability. But if it should be fulfilled, constable, if it
should be fulfilled, if I were to have France and Tur
key, Paris and Constantinople, the Occident and the
Orient, confess, messieurs, that it would be grand, — that
it would be sublime ! "

" I understand, then, Sire, " said the Due de Guise,
VOL. i. — 13

194 ASCANIO.

" that it is definitely decided that you decline the suze
rainty proffered you by the Ghentese, and that you re
nounce the former domains of the house of Burgundy ? "

" It is so decided : the Emperor shall see that I am an
ally as loyal as I am a loyal foe. But first of all, and in
any event, I desire and shall demand that the Duchy of
Milan be restored to me : it belongs to me by hereditary
right and by imperial investiture, and I will have it, on
my honor as a gentleman, but, I trust, without breaking
with my brother Charles."

" And you will ofFei to allow Charles V. to pass
through France on his way to Ghent to chastise the
rebels ? " asked Poyet.

"Yes, Monsieur le Chancelier," was the king's reply;
" despatch M. de Frejus to-day to extend the invitation
in my name. Let us show him that we are disposed
to go any length to maintain peace. But if he prefers
war — "

A majestic, awe-inspiring gesture accompanied this
phrase, interrupted for an instant as Fra^ois caught
sight of his artist standing modestly near the door.

"But if he prefers war," he resumed, "by my Jupi
ter, of whom Benvenuto brings me news, I swear that
it shall be war bloody, desperate, and terrible! Well,
Benvenuto, where is my Jupiter ? "

" Sire, " replied Cellini, " I bring you the model of
your Jupiter : but do you know of what I was dreaming
as I looked at you and listened to you ? I was dreaming
of a fountain for your Fontainebleau, — a fountain to be
surmounted by a colossal statue sixty feet high, holding
a broken lance in its right hand, and with the left rest
ing on its sword hilt. This statue, Sire, should repre
sent Mars, — that is to say, your Majesty; for your
nature is all courage, and you use your courage judi-

THE KING'S QUEEN. 195

ciously, and for the defence of your glory. Stay, Sire,
that is not all: at the four corners of the base of the
statue there should be four seated figures, — Poetry,
Painting, Sculpture, and Generosity. Of that I was
dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you, Sire."

" And you shall cause your dream to live in marble or
bronze, Benvenuto : such is my wish, " said the king in a
commanding tone, but with a cordial, kindly smile.

All the members of the council applauded, for all
deemed the king worthy of the statue, and the statue
worthy of the king.

" Meanwhile, " said the king, " let us see our Jupiter."

Benvenuto drew the model from beneath his cloak,
and placed it upon the table, around which the destiny
of the world had so recently been debated.

Francois gazed at it for a moment with undisguised
admiration.

" At last ! " he cried, " at last I have found a man
after my own heart. My friend," he continued, laying
his hand upon Benvenuto's shoulder, " I know not which
of the two experiences the greater happiness, the prince
who finds an artist who thoroughly sympathizes with and
understands all his ideas, such an artist as yourself in
short, or the artist who meets a prince capable of appre
ciating him. I think that my pleasure is the greater,
upon my word."

" Oh no, Sire, permit me ! " cried Cellini ; " surely
mine is much the greater."

"No, mine, Benvenuto."

" I dare not contradict your Majesty, and yet — "

" Let us say that we experience an equal amount of
pleasure, my friend."

" You have called me your friend, Sire, " said Benve
nuto ; " that is a word which pays me a hundred times

196 ASCAXIO.

over for all that I have done or can ever do for your
Majesty."

"Very well! it is my purpose to prove to you, Ben-
venuto, that it was no empty, meaningless word that
escaped me, and that I called you my friend because
you are my friend in fact. Bring me my Jupiter com
pleted as soon as possible, and whatever you may ask of
me when you bring it, upon my honor as a gentleman,
you shall have if a king's hand can procure it for you.
Do you hear, messieurs ? If I forget my promise, remind
me of it. "

" Sire, " cried Benvenuto, " you are a great and a noble
king, and I am ashamed that I am able to do so little for
you, who do so much for me."

Having kissed the hand the king held out to him,
Cellini replaced the statue of Jupiter under his cloak,
and left the council chamber with his heart overflowing
with pride and joy.

As he left the Louvre, he met Primaticcio about to
go in.

" Whither go you so joyously, my dear Benvenuto ? "
he said, as Cellini hastened along without seeing him.

" Ah ! Francesco, is it you ? " cried Cellini. " Yes,
you are quite right. I am joyous indeed, for I have just
seen our great, our sublime, our divine Francois I. — "

"And did you see Madame d'Etampes?" queried
Primaticcio.

" Who said things to me, Francesco, that I dare not
repeat, although they say that modesty is not my strong
point."

" But what did Madame d'Etampes say to you ? "

" He called me his friend, Francesco, do you under
stand ? He talked to me as familiarly as he talks to his
marshals. Finally, he said that when my Jupiter is

THE KING'S QUEEN. 197

finished I may ask whatever favor I choose, and it is
accorded in advance."

" But what did Madame d'Etampes promise you ? n

" What a strange man you are, Francesco ! "

"Why so?"

"You persist in talking about Madame d'Etampes
when I speak of the king."

" Because I know the court better than you do, Ben-
venuto; because you are my countryman and my friend:
because you have brought me a breath of air from our
dear Italy, and in my gratitude I desire to save you from
a great danger. Mark what I say, Benvenuto: the
Duchesse d'Etampes is your enemy, your mortal enemy.
I have told you this before, when I only feared it; I
repeat it to-day, when I am perfectly sure of it. You
have offended her, and if you do not appease her, Ben-
venuto, she will ruin you. Benvenuto, mark well what
I say: Madame d'Etampes is the king's queen."

" Mon Dieu, what is all this 1 " cried Cellini, with a
laugh. "I have offended Madame d'Etampes! how so,
in God's name ? "

" Oh, I know you, Benvenuto, and I supposed that
you knew no more than I or the woman herself as to the
cause of her aversion to you. But what can we do ?
Women are so constituted ; they hate as they love, with
out knowing why, and the Duchesse d'Etampes hates

you."

" What would you have me do 1 "

" What would I have you do ! I would have the
courtier rescue the sculptor."

" I, the courtier of a courtesan ! "

" You are wrong, Benvenuto, " said Primaticcio, smil
ing : " Madame d'Etampes is very beautiful, as every
artist must admit."

198 ASCANIO.

" I admit it, " said Benvenuto.

" Very well, go and say so to herself, and not to me.
I ask nothing more than that to make you the best
friends in the world. You have wounded her by some
artist's whim, and it is your place to make the first
advances toward her.

" If I wounded her, " said Cellini, " I did it uninten
tionally, or rather without malice. She said some bitter
words to me which I did not deserve; I put her back
where she belonged, and she did deserve it."

" Never mind, never mind ! forget what she said, Ben
venuto, and make her forget your reply. I tell you
again she is imperious and vindictive, and she has the
king's heart in her hand, — a king who loves art, it is
true, but who loves love more. She will make you
repent your audacity, Benvenuto ; she will make enemies
for you ; she it was who inspired the provost with cour
age to resist you. And listen: I am just setting out for
Italy ; I am going to Koine by her command ; and my
journey, Benvenuto, is aimed at you, — I, your friend,
am compelled to become the instrument of her spleen."

" What are you to do at Rome 1 "

" What am I to do there ? You have promised the
king to emulate the ancients, and I know that you are
a man to keep your promise. But the duchess thinks
you a braggart, and with a view of crushing you by the
comparison no doubt, she is sending me, a painter, to
Rome to make casts of the most beautiful of the ancient
statues, the Laocoon, the Venus, the Knife-Grinder, and
God knows what ! "

" That is, indeed, refinement of hatred, " said Ben
venuto, who, notwithstanding his good opinion of him
self, was not altogether confident of the result of a
comparison of his work with that of the great masters;

THE KING'S QUEEN. 199

" Imt to yield to a woman, " he added, clenching his
fists, "never! never!"

" Who spoke of yielding ? I will show you an excel
lent way to accomplish it. She is pleased with Ascanio ;
she wishes to employ him, and has instructed me to bid
him call upon her. Now, nothing could be simpler than
for you to accompany your pupil to the Hotel d'Etampes
and introduce him yourself to the fair duchess. Seize
the opportunity ; take with you one of those marvellous
jewels which you alone can make, Benvenuto; show it
to her first, and when you see her eyes glisten as she
looks at it, offer it to her as an unworthy tribute to her
beauty. She will accept, will thank you gracefully, and
will in return make you some present worthy of you and
take you back into favor. If, on the other hand, you
have that woman for an enemy, abandon henceforth all
the great things of which you are dreaming. Alas! I
too have been compelled to stoop for a moment, only to
rise to my full stature immediately. Until then that
dauber Kosso was preferred to me; he was put forward
everywhere, and always over my head. They made
him Intendant of the Crown."

"You are unjust to him, Francesco," said Cellini,
unable to conceal his real thought ; " he is a great
painter."

" Do you think so ? "

" I am sure of it."

"And so am I sure of it," said Primaticcio, "and
that is just why I hate him. They were using him to
crush me ; I flattered their wretched vanity, and now I
am the great Primaticcio, and they are. using me to crush
you. Do as I did, therefore, Benvenuto; you will
never repent having followed my advice. I implore you
for your own sake and mine, I implore you in the name

200 ASCANIO.

of your reno\vn and your future, both of which you will
compromise if you persist in your obstinacy."

" It is hard, " said Cellini, who was, however, percepti
bly weakening in his determination.

" If not for yourself, Benvenuto, for the sake of our
great king. Do you wish to tear his heart by compelling
him to choose between a mistress he adores, and an artist
he admires ? "

" Very well ! so be it ! For the king's sake I will do
it!" cried Cellini, overjoyed to find a pretext which
would spare his self-esteem.

" A la bonne heure ! " said Primaticcio. " You under
stand, of course, that if a single word of this conversation
should be repeated to the duchess, it would cause my
ruin."

" Oh ! I trust that you have no fears on that score. "

" If Benvenuto gives his word, all is said."

"You have it."

" In that case, adieu, brother."

" A pleasant journey to you."

" And good luck to you. "

The two friends, having exchanged a cordial grasp of
the hand, parted, each with a gesture which summarized
their whole conversation.

SOU VENT FEMME VAEIE. 201

XIII.
SOUVENT FEMME VAKIE.

THE H6tel d'Etampes was not far from the Hotel de
Nesle. Our readers will not be surprised therefore at
our rapid flight from one to the other.

It was located near the Quai des Augustins, and ex
tended the whole length of Rue Gilles-le-Gueux, which
was at a later date sentimentally christened Rue Git-le-
Coeur. The principal entrance was upon Rue de PHiron-
delle. Francis I. had presented it to his mistress to
induce her to become the wife of Jacques Desbrosses,
Comte de Penthi^vre, as he had given the dukedom of
Etampes and the government of Bretagne to Jacques
Desbrosses, Comte de Penthievre, to induce him to marry
his mistress.

The king had spared no pains to render his gift worthy
of the lovely Anne d'Heilly. He had caused the old
edifice to be refurbished and made over according to the
latest style.

Upon its frowning facade the delicate flowers of
the Renaissance sprang into life by magic, like so
many thoughts of love. It was evident from the zeal
displayed by the king in the decoration of this princely
abode, that he anticipated passing almost as much of his
time there as the duchess herself. The apartments were
furnished with royal magnificence, and the whole estab
lishment was upon the footing of that of a real queen,

202 ASCANIO.

much more extensive and luxurious, indeed, than that
of the chaste and kindly Eleonora, sister of Charles V.
and the kwf ul wife of Francois I., who was a personage
of so little importance in the world, as well as at the
French court.

If we are so indiscreet as to make our way into the
duchess's sleeping apartment early in the morning, we
shall find her half reclining upon a couch, her charming
head supported by one of her lovely hands, and passing
the other carelessly through her chestnut locks, which
shone with a golden light. Her bare feet seem even
smaller and whiter than they really are in her wide black
velvet slippers, and her floating, negligee morning gown
lends an irresistible charm to the coquette's fascinations.

The king is in the room, standing by a window, but
he is not looking at his duchess. He is tapping his
fingers rhythmically against the glass, and seems to be
deep in meditation. He is thinking, no doubt, of the
momentous question of Charles V.'s journey through
France.

" Pray what are you doing there, Sire, with your back
turned?" the duchess finally asks, petulantly.

" Making verses for you, my love, and they are fin
ished at last, I believe."

" Oh, repeat them to me quickly, I pray you, my
gallant crowned poet! "

"That I will," the king replies, with the confidence
of a laurel-crowned rhymer. " Listen : —

' Etant seul et aupres d'une fenetre,
Par un matin comme le jour peignait,
Je regardais Aurore a main senestre,
Qui a Phoebus le chemin enseignait,
Et d'autre part ma mie qui peignait
Son chef dore, et vis ses luisaus yeux,

SOUVENT FEMME VARIE. 203

Dont un jeta un trait si gracieux,
Qu'k haute voix je fus contraint de dire ;
Dieux immortels ! reutrez dedans vos cieux,
Car la beaute de ceste vous empire ! ' " 1

" Oh, the lovely verses ! " says the duchess, clapping
her hands. " Look at Aurora to your heart's content :
henceforth I '11 not be jealous of her, since to her I owe
such charming verses. Say them to me once again, I
beg."

Fran9ois obligingly repeated his flattering lines, for
his own benefit as well as hers, but this time Anne said
nothing.

" What is the matter, my fair siren ?" said Francois,
who expected a second compliment.

" The matter is, Sire, that I am considering whether I
will say to you again even more emphatically what I
said last evening: a poet has even less pretext than a
knightly king for allowing his mistress to be insulted, for
she is at the same time his mistress and his Muse."

"Again, naughty one!" rejoined the king with an
impatient gesture: "an insult indeed, bon Dieu! Your
wrath is implacable, in good sooth, my nymph of
nymphs, when it leads you to neglect my verses."

" Monseigneur, I hate as warmly as I love."

1 Standing alone beside my window,
One morning as the day was breaking,
I saw at my left hand Aurora
To Phoebus pointing out his daily road ;
And on the other hand my sweetheart combing
Her golden locks ; I saw her beaming eyes
That shone so lovingly upon me, *
That I was fain to cry aloud :
" Immortal Gods ! return to your abodes celestial,
Her loveliness doth put yours to the blush."

204 ASCANIO.

" Aud yet suppose I were to beg you to lay aside your
animosity to Benvenuto, — a great fool, who knows
not what he says, who talks just as he fights, heedless of
consequences, and who had not, I swear, the slightest
purpose to wound you. You know, moreover, that
clemency 'a the attribute of goddesses, dear goddess
mine, so pray forgive the simpleton for love of me ! "

" Simpleton, indeed ! " muttered Anne.

" Oh, a sublime simpleton, I grant you ! " said Fran-
9018: " I saw him yesterday, and he promised to do
marvellous things. He is a man, I verily believe, who
has no rival in his art, and will hereafter shed as much
lustre on my reign as Andrea del Sarto, Titian, and
Leonardo da Vinci. You know how I love my artists,
dearest duchess, so be complaisant and indulgent to
him, I beg you. Mon Dieu ! an April shower, a woman's
caprice, and an artist's whim have more of fascination
than of ennui for me. Come, come, do you, whom I do
love so dearly, pardon at my bidding."

" I am your servant, Sire, and I will obey you."

" Thanks. In return for this favor accorded by the
woman's kindly heart, you may demand such gift as
pleases you that lies within the prince's power to bestow.
But, alas! 'tis growing late, and I must leave you.
The council meets again to-day. 'Tis an insufferable
bore ! Ah ! my good brother Charles makes the king's
trade most irksome to me. With him cunning replaces
chivalry, the pen the sword ; and 't is a burning shame.'
Upon my soul, I think we need new words to be devised
for all this science and erudition of government. Adieu !
my poor beloved. I will do my best to be adroit and
clever. You are very fortunate, my dear, for you have
only to remain beautiful, and Heaven has made that an
easy task for you. Adieu! nay, do not rise, my page is

SOUVENT FEMME VARIE. 205

waiting for me in the antechamber. Au revoir, and
think of me."

" As always, Sire."

Francis waved a last farewell to her with his hand,
raised the hangings, and went out, leaving the fair
duchess alone; and she, true to her promise, began at
once, if we must say it, to think of other things.

Madame d'Etampes was of an impulsive, active, am
bitious nature. Having eagerly sought and gallantly
won the king's love, it was not long before that love
ceased to satisfy her restless spirit, and she began to
suffer from ennui. Neither Admiral Biron, nor the
Comte de Longueval, whom she loved for some time,
nor Diane de Poitiers, whom she always hated, furnished
a sufficient amount of excitement for her needs; but
within a week the void in her heart had been measurably
filled, and she had begun to live again, thanks to a new
hate and a new love. She hated Cellini and loved
Ascanio, and she was thinking of one or the other while
her women were completing her toilet.

When she was fully dressed except as to her headgear,
the Provost of Paris and the Vicomte de Marmagne
were announced.

They were among the most devoted partisans of the
duchess in the warfare which existed at court between
the Dauphin's mistress, Diane de Poitiers, and herself.
One is naturally glad to see one's friends when thinking
of one's enemies, and the manner of Madame d'Etampes
was infinitely gracious as she gave the scowling provost
and the smiling viscount her hand to kiss.

" Messire le PreVot, " she began, in a tone in which
unfeigned wrath was blended with compassion that con
tained no suggestion of offence, " we have been informed
of the infamous treatment you have received from this

206 ASCANIO.

Italian clown, — you, our best friend, — and we are ex
tremely indignant."

" Madame, " replied D'Estourville, neatly turning his
misfortune into an occasion for flattery, " I should have
been ashamed if one of my years and character had been
spared by the villain who was not deterred by your
beauty and charm."

" Oh ! " said Anne,- " I think only of you ; as to the
insult to me personally, the king, who is really too in
dulgent to these insolent foreigners, has begged me to
forget it, and I have done so."

" In that case, madame, the request we have to make
will doubtless be but ill received, and we ask your per
mission to withdraw without stating it. "

" What, Messire d'Estourville ! am I not at your ser
vice at all times, and whatever may happen? Speak!
speak! or I shall lose my temper with so distrustful a
friend."

" Very well, madame, this is what we have to say.
I had believed that I might dispose of this grant of lodg
ings which I owe to your munificence in favor of the
Vicomte de Marmagne, and naturally we cast our eyes
upon the Hotel de Nesle, which has fallen into such bad
hands."

" Aha ! " said the duchess. " You interest me im
mensely."

" The viscount, madame, accepted my suggestion in
the first place with the utmost enthusiasm; but now,
upon reflection, he hesitates, and thinks with terror of
the redoubtable Benvenuto."

" Pardon me, my good friend, " the viscount interposed,
— "pardon me, you explain the matter very ill. I am
not afraid of Benvenuto, but of the anger of the king.
I have no fear of being killed by the Italian clown, to

SOU VENT FEMME VARIE. 207

use madame's words, — no, no ! What I fear, so to speak,
is that I may kill him, and that some ill may come to
me for having deprived our lord and master of a servitor
by whom he seems to set great store."

" I ventured to hope, madame, that, in case of need,
your protection would not fail him."

" It has never yet failed my friends, " said the duchess ;
" and, furthermore, have you not on your side a better
friend than I, — justice? Are you not acting in accord
ance with the king's will ? "

" His Majesty, " Mannagne replied, " did not himself
designate the Hotel de Nesle as the abode of any other
than Benvenuto, and our choice, under those circum
stances, would seem very much like revenge, — there 's no
denying it. And then, suppose that I kill this Cellini,
as I can promise to do, for I shall have two sure men
with me 1 "

" Oh ! mon .Dieu ! " exclaimed the duchess, showing
her white teeth as she smiled, " the king's protection
extends to living men, but I fancy that he takes but
little thought to avenge the dead, and when his admira
tion for art is deprived of this particular subject, he will
remember naught save his affection for me, I trust. The
man insulted me publicly and outrageously, Marmagne!
do you forget it 1 "

" But, madame, " rejoined the prudent viscount, " be
very sure that you know all you will have to defend."

" Oh, you are perfectly clear, viscount. "

" Nay, madame, if you will permit me, I do not wish
to leave you in ignorance upon any point. It may be
that force will fail to effect our purpose with this devil
of a man. In that event, we shalLhave recourse to
stratagem ; if he escapes my bravos in his Hotel in
broad daylight, they will meet him again some night by

208 ASCANIO.

accident in a lonely street, and — they have daggers,
madame, as well as swords."

" I understand, " said the duchess, nor did she turn a
shade paler while listening to this little scheme of
assassination.

" Well, madame ? "

" Well, viscount, I see that you are a man of precau
tions, and that it 's not well to be numbered among your
enemies, deuce take me ! "

" But touching the affair itself, madame ? "

" 'T is serious, in very truth, and is perhaps worth
reflecting upon; but what was I saying? Every one
knows, the king himself included, that this man has
wounded me grievously in my pride. I hate him as
bitterly as I hate my husband or Madame Diane, and i'
faith I think that I can promise you — What is it, Isa-
beau ? why do you interrupt us ? "

The duchess's last words were addressed to one of her
women, who entered hurriedly in a state of intense
excitement.

" Mon Dieu ! madame, " said she, " I ask madame's
pardon, but the Florentine artist, Benvenuto Cellini, is
below with the loveliest little golden vase you can
imagine. He said very courteously that he has come to
present it to your ladyship, and he requests the favor of
speaking with you a moment."

" Aha ! " exclaimed the duchess, with an expression of
gratified pride ; " what reply did you make to him,
Isabeau?"

" That madame was not dressed, and that I would go
and inform her of his presence."

" Very good. It would seem, " the duchess added,
turning to the dismayed provost, " that our enemy sees
the error of his ways, and begins to realize who we are,

SOUVENT FEMME VARIE. 209

and what we can do. All the same, he will not come off
so cheaply as he thinks, and I don't propose to accept his
excuses all in a moment. He must be made to feel the
enormity of his offence and the weight of our indignation
a little more sensibly. Say to him, Isabeau, that you
have informed me, and that I bid him wait."

Isabeau went out.

" I was saying, Vicomte de Marmagne, " resumed the
duchess, with a perceptible softening in her tone, " that
what you were speaking of is a very serious matter, and
that I could hardly promise to give my countenance to
what is, after all, nothing less than ambuscade and
murder. "

"But the insult was so pronounced!" the provost
ventured to say.

" The reparation will be no less so, I trust, messire.
This famous pride, which has resisted the will of sover
eigns, is yonder in my antechamber awaiting the good
pleasure of a woman, and two hours of this purgatory
will, in all conscience, sufficiently atone for an imperti
nent word. We must not be altogether pitiless, provost.
Forgive him, as I shall forgive him two hours hence.
Ought my influence over you to be less than the king's
over me ? "

" Kindly permit us to take leave now, madame, " said
the provost, bowing, " for I prefer not to make a promise
to my real sovereign which I could not keep. "

" Take your leave ! oh no ! " said the duchess, who
was determined to have witnesses of her triumph. " I
intend, Messire le Prevot, that you shall be present at
the humiliation of your enemy, and thus we shall both
be avenged by the same stroke. I devote the next two
hours to you and the viscount; nay, do not thank me.
They say that you are marrying your daughter to Comte

VOL. I. — 14

210 ASCANIO.

d'Orbec, I believe 1 — a beautiful parti, in sooth. Fine,
I should have said, not beautiful.1 Pray, sit you down,
messire ! Do you know that my consent is needful for
this marriage, and you 've not asked it yet, but I will
give it you. D'Orbec is as devoted to me as yourself.
I hope that we are at last to see your lovely child, and
have her for our own, and that her husband will not be
so ill advised as not to bring her to court. What is her
name, messire ? "

" Colombe, madame."

" A sweet, pretty name. 'T is said that one's name
has an influence upon one's destiny : if it be so, the poor
child should have a tender heart, and be foredoomed to
suffer. Well, Isabeau, what is it now ? "

" Nothing, madame; he said that he would wait."

"Ah, yes! 'tis well. I had forgotten him already.
Yes, yes, messire, I say again, keep your eye on Co
lombe ; the count 's a husband of the same sort as mine,
as ambitious as the Due d'Etampes is avaricious, and
quite capable of exchanging his wife for some duchy.
And then you must be beware of me as well, especially
if she 's as pretty as she 's said to be ! You will pre
sent her to me, will you not, messire ? 'T will be no
more than fair, so that I may be prepared to defend
myself. "

The duchess, exultant in anticipation of her triumph,
ran on thus for a long while with apparent unconcern,
although her impatient joy could be discerned in her
every movement.

" Well, well, " she said at last, " another half-hour and

the two hours will have passed; then we will release

poor Benvenuto from his agony. Put yourselves in his

place ; he must suffer terribly, for he is little wonted to

1 " Je dis beau, c'est ban que je devrais dire."

SOU VENT FEMME VARIE. 211

this sort of sentry-go. To him the Louvre is always
open, and the king always visible. In truth, I pity him,
although he well deserves it. He must be gnashing his
teeth, must he not ? And then to be unable to give vent
to his anger. Ha ! ha ! ha ! I shall have many a hearty
laugh over this. But what is that I hear 1 Bon Dieu !
all that shouting and uproar ! "

" May it not be that the soul of the damned is weary
ing of Purgatory ? " suggested the provost, with renewed
hope.

" I propose to go and see, " said the duchess, turning
pale. " Come with me, my masters, come."

Benvenuto, persuaded by the arguments we have
heard to make his peace with the all-powerful favorite,
on the day following his conversation with Primaticcio
took the little golden vase as a peace-offering, and re
paired to the Hotel d'Etampes, with Ascanio leaning on
his arm, still very weak and very pale after a night of
suffering. In the first place, the footmen refused to an
nounce him at so early an hour, and he lost a good half-
hour parleying with them. He had already begun to
lose his temper, when Isabeau at last made her appear
ance, and consented to announce him to her mistress.
She returned to say to Benvenuto that the duchess was
dressing, and he must wait a short time. He took pa
tience, therefore, and sat himself down upon a stool
beside Ascanio, who was considerably overdone by the
walk, in conjunction with his fever and his painful
thoughts.

An hour passed. Benvenuto began to count the min
utes. " After all," he thought, " the toilette of a duchess
is the most important function of the day, and I don't
propose to lose the benefit of the step I have taken for
a quarter of an hour more or less. "

212 ASCANIO.

Nevertheless, in the face of this philosophical reflec
tion, he began to count the seconds.

Meanwhile Ascanio turned paler and paler; he was
determined to say nothing to his master of his sufferings,
and had accompanied him without a word; but he had
eaten nothing that morning, and, although he refused
to acknowledge it, he felt that his strength Avas failing
him.

Benvenuto could not remain seated, but began to stalk
up and down the room.

A quarter of an hour passed.

" Are you suffering, my child 1 " he asked.

"No, master, indeed I'm not: you are the one who
is suffering. Be patient, I beg you, for she cannot be
long now."

At that moment Isabeau appeared again.

" Your mistress is very slow, " said Benvenuto.

The mischievous girl went to the window, and looked
at the clock in the courtyard.

"Why, you have waited only an hour and a half,"
she said ; " why do you complain, pray ?"

As Cellini frowned, she laughed in his face, and
tripped away.

Benvenuto, by a violent effort, subdued his wrath
once more. But in order to do it he was obliged to
resume his seat, and sat with folded arms, silent and
stern. He seemed calm ; but his wrath was fermenting
silently. Two servants stood like statues at the door,
observing him with a serious expression, which seemed
to him derisory.

The clock struck the quarter. Benvenuto glanced at
Ascanio, and saw that he was paler than ever, and
almost ready to faint.

" Ah <ja ! " he cried, throwing his self-restraint to the

SOQVENT FEMME VARIE. 213

winds, " so this is done designedly ! I chose to believe
what I was told, and wait good-naturedly : but if an
insult is intended — and I am so little wonted to them,
that the thought did not occur to me — if an insult is
intended, I am not the man to allow myself to be in
sulted, even by a woman, and I go. Come, Ascanio."

As he spoke, Benvenuto, raising in his powerful hand
the unhospitable stool, on which the duchess in her wrath
had humiliated him for two mortal hours without his
knowledge, let it fall to the floor and shattered it. The
valets made a movement toward him, but he half drew
his dagger and they stopped. Ascanio, terrified for his
master, essayed to rise, but his excitement had exhausted
what remained of his strength, and he fell to the floor
unconscious. Benvenuto at first did not see him.

At that moment the duchess appeared in the doorway,
pale and trembling with wrath.

" Yes, I go, " Benvenuto repeated in a voice of thunder,
perfectly well aware of her presence, but addressing the
valets : " do you tell the woman that I take my present
witli me to give to somebody, I know not whom, who '11
be more worthy of it than herself. Tell her that, if she
took me for one of her valets, like yourselves, she made
a sad mistake, and that we artists do not sell our loyalty
and homage as she sells her love! And now make way
for me ! Follow me, Ascanio ! "

As he spoke, he turned toward his beloved pupil, and
saw that his eyes were closed, and that his head had
fallen back against the wall.

" Ascanio ! " he cried, " Ascanio, my child, fainting,
perhaps dying ! 0 Ascanio, my beloved ! and 't is this
woman again — " And Benvenuto turned with a threat
ening gesture to Madame d'Etampes, at the same time
starting to carry Ascanio away in his^rms.

214 ASCANIO.

The duchess meanwhile, transfixed with rage and
terror, had not moved or spoken. But when she saw
Ascanio with his head thrown back, and his long hair
dishevelled, as white as marble, and so beautiful in his
pallor, she rushed to him in obedience to an irresistible
impulse, and fell on her knees opposite Benvenuto, seiz
ing one of Ascanio's hands in her own.

"Why, the child is dying! If you take him away,
monsieur, you will kill him. He may need immediate
attention. Jerome, run and fetch Master Andre. I do
not mean that he shall go from here in this condition, do
you xmderstand? You may go or stay, as you please,
but leave him."

Benvenuto cast a penetrating glance at the duchess,
and one of deep anxiety at Ascanio. He realized that
there could be no danger in leaving his cherished pupil in
the care of Madame d'Etampes, while there might be
very serious danger in removing him without proper pre
caution. His mind was soon made up, as always, for
swift and inexorable decision was one of Cellini's most
striking good or bad qualities.

" You will answer for him, madame ? " he said.

" Oh, with my life ! " cried the duchess.

He softly kissed his apprentice on the forehead, and,
wrapping his cloak about him, stalked proudly from the
room, with his hand upon his dagger, not without
exchanging a glance of hatred and disdain with the
duchess. As for the two men, he did not deign to look at
them.

Anne followed her enemy so long as she could see him
with eyes blazing with wrath; then, with an entire
change of expression, her eyes rested sadly and anxiously
upon the comely invalid; love took the place of anger,
the tigress became a gazelle once more.

SOUVENT FEMME VARIE. 215

"Master Andre," she said to her physician, who
entered hurriedly, " save him ; he is wounded and
dying."

" It is nothing, " said Master Andre, " a mere passing
weakness. "

He poured upon Ascanio's lips a few drops of a cordial
which he always carried about him.

" He is coming to himself, " cried the duchess, " he
moved. Now, master, he must be kept quiet, must he
not? Take him into yonder room," she said to the
valets, "and lay him upon a couch. — But, hark ye," she
added, lowering her voice, so that none but they could
hear: "if one word escapes you as to what you have
seen and heard, your neck shall pay for your tongue.
Go."

The trembling lackeys bowed, and, gently lifting
Ascanio, bore him away.

Remaining alone with the provost and the Viscomte
de Marmagne, prudent and passive spectators of the out
rage upon her, Madame d'Etampes eyed them both,
especially the latter, with a scornful glance, but she
speedily repressed the inclination to express her contempt
in words.

" I was saying, viscount, " she began in a bitter tone,
but calmly, " I was saying that the thing you proposed
was very serious; but I did not reflect sufficiently upon
it. I have sufficient power, I think, to permit me to
strike down a traitor, even as I should have sufficient, if
need were, to deal with indiscreet friends. The king
would condescend to punish him this time, I trust; but
I choose to avenge myself. Punishment would make
the insult public; vengeance will bury it. You have
been cool and clever enough, messieurs, to postpone my
vengeance, in order not to compromise its success, and I

216 ASCANIO.

congratulate you upon it. Be shrewd enough now, I
conjure you, not to let it escape you, and do not compel
me to have recourse to others than yourselves. Viscomte
de Marmagne, it is necessary to speak plainly to you. I
guarantee you equal impunity with the executioner;
but if you care for my advice, I advise you and your
sbirri to lay aside the sword, and trust to the dagger.
Say nothing, but act, and that promptly; that is the
most satisfactory response. Adieu, messieurs. "

With these words, uttered in a short, abrupt tone, the
duchess extended her hand as if to point out the door
to the two noblemen. They bowed awkwardly, too con
fused to find words in which to frame an excuse, and
left the room.

" Oh, to think that I am only a woman, and am
obliged to resort to such dastards ! " exclaimed Anne,
looking after them while her lips curled disdainfully.
" Oh how I despise them all, royal lover, venal hus
band, valet in silken doublet, valet in livery, — all save a
single one whom in my own despite I admire, and another
whom I delight to love ! "

She entered the room to which the interesting invalid
"had been carried. As she approached the couch Ascanio
opened his eyes.

" It was nothing, " said Master Andre to the duchess.
" The young man has received a wound in the shoulder,
and fatigue, some mental shock, or hunger, it may be,
caused a momentary faintness, from which he has com
pletely recovered, as you see, by the use of cordials. He
is fully restored now, and may safely be taken home in
a litter."

" Very good, " said the duchess, handing a purse to
Master Andr^, who bowed low and went out.

" Where am I ? " said Ascanio, seeking to collect his
thoughts.

SOU VENT FEMME VARIE. 217

* You are with me, at my home, Ascanio, " the duchess
replied.

" At your home, madame ? Ah ! yes, I recognize you ;
you are Madame d'Etampes. And I remember too —
Where is Benvenuto ? Where is my master 1 "

u Do not stir, Ascanio ; your master is safe, never fear.
He is dining peaceably at home at the present moment. "

" But how does it happen that he left me here ? "

" You lost consciousness, and he trusted you to my
care."

" And you assure me, madame, that ha is in no dan
ger ; that he went from here unharmed ? "

" I tell you again, I promise you, Ascanio, that he
has never been less exposed to danger than at this mo
ment. Ungrateful boy, when I, Duchesse d'Etampes, am
watching over him and caring for him with the ten
der solicitude of a sister, to persist in speaking of his
master ! "

" O madame, I pray you pardon me, and accept my
thanks ! " said Ascanio.

" Indeed, it 's high time ! " rejoined the duchess,
shaking her pretty head with a sly smile.

Thereupon she began to speak, giving to every word a
tender intonation, and to the simplest phrases the sub
tlest of meanings, asking every question greedily and at
the same time with respect, and listening to every reply
as if her destiny depended upon it. She was humble,
soft and caressing as a cat, quick to grasp every cue, like
a consummate actress, leading Ascanio gently back to
the subject if he wandered from it, and giving him all
the credit for ideas which she evolved and cunningly led
up to ; seeming to distrust herself, and listening to him
as if he were an oracle ; exerting to the utmost the culti
vated, charming intellect which, as we have said, caused

218 ASCANIO.

her to be called the loveliest of blue-stockings and the
most learned of beauties. In short, this interview be
came in her hands the most cajoling flattery, and the
cleverest of seductions. As the youth for the third or
fourth time made ready to take his leave, she said, still
detaining him : —

" You speak, Ascanio, with so much eloquence and
fire of your goldsmith's art, that it is a perfect revelation
to me, and henceforth I shall see the conception of a
master where I have hitherto seen only an ornament. In
your opinion Benvenuto is the great master of the art ? "

" Madame, he has surpassed the divine Michel- Angelo
himself."

" I am pleased to hear it. You lessen the ill-will I
bear him on account of his rude behavior to me.

" Oh ! you must not mind his roughness, madame.
His brusque manner conceals a most ardent and devoted
heart; but Benvenuto is at the same time the most
impatient and fiery of men. He thought that you were
making him wait in mere sport, and the insult —

" Say the mischief, " rejoined the duchess with the
simulated confusion of a spoiled child. " It is the truth
that I was not dressed when your master arrived, and I
simply prolonged my toilet a little. It was wrong, very
wrong. You see that I confess my sins to you freely.
I knew not that you were with him, " she added eagerly.

" True, madame, but Cellini, who is not very sagacious,
I admit, and whose confidence has been sadly abused,
deems you to be — I may say it to you who are so gra-
cicus and kind — very wicked and very terrible, and he
thought that he detected an insult in what was nothing
more than child's play."

" Do you think so ? " queried the duchess, unable
wholly to repress a mocking smile.

SOUVENT FEMME VARIE. 219

"Oh, forgive him, madame! he is noble-hearted and
generous, and if he knew you as you are, believe me, he
would ask your pardon for his error on his knees."

" Say no more, I pray you ! Do you think to make
me love him now? I bear him a grudge, I tell you,
and, to begin with, I propose to raise up a rival."

" That will be difficult, madame."

" No, Ascanio, for you, his pupil, shall be the rival.
Allow me, at least, if I must do homage to this great
genius who detests me, to do it indirectly. Say, will
you, of whose charming inventive talent Cellini himself
boasts, refuse to place your talent at my service ? And
since you do not share your master's prejudices against
my person, will you not prove it to me by consenting to
assist in embellishing it ? "

" Madame , all that I am and all the power I have is
at your service. You are so kind to me, you have in
quired with so much interest concerning my past and my
hopes for the future, that I am henceforth devoted to
you heart and soul."

" Child, I have done nothing yet, and I ask nothing
from you at present except a little of your talent. Tell
me, have you not seen some jewel of surpassing beauty
in your dreams? I have superb pearls; into what mar
vellous creation would you like to transform them, my
pretty wizard ? Shall I confide to you an idea of my
own ? A moment since, as you lay in yonder room with
pale cheeks and head thrown back, I fancied that I saw
a beautiful lily whose stalk was bending in the wind.
Make me a lily of pearls and silver to wear in my cor
sage, " said the enchantress, placing her hand upon her
heart.

" Ah ! madame, such kindness — "

" Ascanio, do you care to repay my kindness, as you

220 ASCANIO.

call it ? Promise me that you will take me for your con
fidante, your friend, that you will hide nothing from me
of your acts, your plans, your sorrows, for I see that you
are unhappy. Promise to come to me when you stand
in need of help or counsel."

" Why, madame, you bestow one favor more upon me,
rather than ask a proof of my gratitude. "

" However that may be, you promise ? "

" Alas ! I would have given you the promise yester
day, madame ; for yesterday I might have thought that I
might some day need your help or counsel ; but to-day it
is in no one's power to help me."

" Who knows ? "

"I know, madame."

" Ah me ! Ascanio, you are unhappy, you are un
happy, you cannot deceive me."

Ascanio sadly shook his head.

"You are disingenuous with a friend, Ascanio; 'tis
not well done of you, " the duchess continued, taking the
young man's hand, and softly pressing it.

" My master must be anxious, madame, and I am
afraid that my presence discommodes you. I feel quite
well again. Allow me to withdraw."

" How eager you are to leave me ! Wait at least
until a litter is prepared for you. Do not resist; it is
the doctor's order, and my own."

Anne called a servant, and gave him the necessary
orders, then bade Isabeau bring her pearls and some of
her jewels, which she handed to Ascanio.

" Now I restore your freedom, " she said ; " but when
you are fully restored to health, my lily will be the first
thing you give your mind to, will it not? Meanwhile,
think upon it, I beg you, and as soon as you have
finished your design come and show it to me."

SOU VENT FEMME VARIE. 221

"Yes, Madame la Duchesse."

" And do you not wish me to think upon how I can be
of service to you, and to do whatever you wish, since
you are doing for me what I wish? Come, Ascanio,
come, my child, and tell me what you sigh for? For at
your age one seeks in vain to still the beating of his
heart, turn his eyes away, and close his lips, — one always
sighs for something. Do you deem me to be so devoid
of power and influence that you disdain to make me your
confidante ? "

" I know, madame, " rejoined Ascanio, " that you en
joy all the power which you deserve. But no human
power will avail to help me in my present plight. "

" Tell me all the same, " said the duchess ; " I insist ! "
Then, with fascinating coquetry, softening her voice and
her expression, she added, " I beseech you ! "

"Alas! alas! madame," cried Ascanio, as his grief
overflowed. " Alas ! since you speak so kindly to me,
and since my departure will cover my shame and tears, I
will do, not as I should have done yesterday, address a
prayer to the duchess, but make a confidante of the Avoman.
Yesterday I would have said, ' I love Colombe, and I
am happy ! ' To-day I will say, ' Colombe does not
love me, and there is nothing left for me to do but to
die ! ' Adieu, madame, and pity me ! "

Ascanio hurriedly kissed Madame d'Etampes's hand, as
she stood mute and motionless, and vanished.

" A rival ! a rival ! " said Anne, as if awaking from a
dream; "but she does not love him, and he shall love
me, for I will have it so! Oh yes! I swear that he shall
love ine, and that I will kill Benvenuto ! "

222 ASCANIO.

XIV.

WHEREIN IT IS PROVEN THAT SORROW IS THE
GROUNDWORK OF THE LIFE OF MAN.

WE ask pardon for the bitter misanthropy of this title.
It is the fact that the present chapter will exhibit scarcely
any other coherent principle than sorrow, and therein
will resemble life. The reflection is not new, as a cele
brated character in comic opera would say, but it is con
soling, in that it will perhaps be accepted as an apology
by the reader, whom we are about to lead, even as Virgil
led Dante, from despair to despair.

No offence is intended either to the reader or to Virgil.

Our friends, in very truth, at the moment at which we
have now arrived, were all, beginning with Benvenuto
and ending with Jacques Aubry, plunged in melancholy,
and we are about to see them gradually engulfed in the
dark rising tide of sorrow.

We left Benvenuto exceedingly anxious concerning
Ascanio's condition. On his return to the Grand-Nesle,
he thought but little of the wrath of Madame d'Etampes,
I promise you. His sole preoccupation was his dear in
valid. So it was that his joy knew no bounds when the
door opened to give admission to a litter, and Ascanio,
leaping lightly to the ground, grasped his hand, and as
sured him that he was no worse than in the morning.
But Benvenuto's brow quickly grew dark at the appren
tice's first words, and he listened with an expression of
peculiar dissatisfaction while the younger man said : —

SORROW THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 223

" Master, I propose to show you that you have done
a wrong for which you must make amends, and I am
sure that you will thank me instead of bearing me ill-
will for it. You are mistaken with relation to Madame
d'Etampes; she neither despises nor hates j'ou; on the
contrary, she honors and admires you, and you must agree
that you were very rude in your treatment of her, — a
woman and a duchess. Master, Madame d'Etampes is
not only as beautiful as a goddess, she is as kind as
an angel, modest and enthusiastic, simple-minded and
noble, and at heart her disposition is lovely. What
you deemed insulting insolence this morning was nothing
more than childish mischief. I implore you, for your
own sake — you surely would not be unjust — as well as
for mine, whom she made welcome and cared for with
such touching kindness, not to persist in your insulting
contempt for her. I will answer for it that you will
have no difficulty in persuading her — But you do not
answer me, dear master. You shake your head. Can
it be that I have wounded you ? "

" Hark ye, my child, " rejoined Benvenuto gravely.
" I have often told you that in my view there is but one
thing in the world forever beautiful, forever young, for
ever fruitful, and that is art divine. And yet, I think,
I hope, I know, that in certain tender hearts love also
counts for much, — a deep and noble sentiment, whicli
may make happy a whole life; but it is very rare.
For what is love in most cases ? A fancy of a day, a
joyous intimacy, in which both parties are deceived, and
very often in the best of faith. I make sport of this
love, as it is called, Ascanio, with great freedom as
you know; I laugh at its high-flown pretensions and
its stilted language. I do not slander it. To say truth,
it rather pleases me; it has in petto all the joy, all

224 ASCANIO.

the sweetness, all the jealousy of a serious passion, but
its wounds are not mortal. Comedy or tragedy, after
a certain time one hardly remembers it save as a sort
of theatrical performance. And then, Ascanio, while
women are charming creatures, to my mind all save a
very few do not deserve and do not understand anything
more than this passing fancy. To give them more, one
must be a dupe or an imprudent fool. Take Scozzone,
for example : if she should enter my heart, she would be
terrified at what she saw therein; I leave her at the
threshold, and she sings and dances, she is light of heart
and happy. Moreover, Ascanio, these ever changing al
liances have a less durable basis, which however is all-
sufficient for the artist, — the worship of form, and the
adoration of pure beauty. That is their serious side,
and it is on account of that that I say no ill of them,
although I laugh at them. But, Ascanio, mark this:
there are other passions which do not make me laugh,
but make me tremble, — terrible, insensate passions, as
impossible as things we see in dreams."

" Mon Dieu ! " thought Ascanio, " can he have learned
aught of my mad passion for Colombe ? "

" They afford neither pleasure nor happiness, " con
tinued Cellini, " and yet they take possession of one's
whole being; they are vampires which slowly drink your
•whole existence, which devour your heart little by little ;
they hold you in a deathly embrace, and you cannot
extricate yourself. Ascanio, Ascanio, beware of such
a passion. 'T is clear that they are mere chimeras, and
that they can in no way profit one, and yet men who
know this well plunge into them body and soul, and
abandon their lives to them almost with joy."

"He has that in his mind! he knows all^" said
Ascanio to himself.

SORROW 'THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 225

" My dear son, " pursued Benvenuto, " if there still is
time, break these bonds which would hold you fast for
ever; you will bear the mark of them, but try at least
to save your life. "

" Who told you that I love her, in God's name ? "
demanded the apprentice.

" If you do not love her, God be praised ! " exclaimed
Benvenuto, thinking that Ascanio denied the impeach
ment, when he simply asked a question. " Beware at
all events, for I saw this morning that she loves you."

" This morning ! Of whom are you speaking ? What
do you mean ? "

" Of whom am I speaking? of Madame d'Etampes."

"Madame d'Etampes! " echoed the bewildered ap
prentice. " Why, master you are wrong, it 's not pos
sible. You say that you saw that Madame d'Etampes
loves me ? "

" Ascanio, I am forty years old ; I have lived, and I
know whereof I speak. By her manner of looking at
you, by the favorable opinion which she has succeeded
in leading you to form of her, I would dare swear that,
she loves you; and from the enthusiasm with which
you defended her just now I was much afraid that you
had fallen in love with her as well. In that case, dear
Ascanio, you would be lost : her love, hot enough to
consume your whole being, when it left you, would leave
you with no illusion, no«faith, no hope, and you would
have no other resource but to love others as you had been
loved yourself, and to carry to other hearts the havoc
that had been wrought in your own."

" Master, " said Ascanio, " I do not know whether
Madame d'Etampes loves me, but I am perfectly sure
that I do not love Madame d'Etampes."

Benvenuto was no more than half convinced by As-
VOL. i. — 15

226 ASCANIO.

canio's apparent sincerity, for he thought that he might
be deceived as to his own feelings. He said nothing
more on the subject, and in the days which followed
often gazed at the apprentice with a sad face.

It should be said, however, that he did not seem to be
troubled exclusively on Ascanio's account. He gave
every indication of being tormented by some personal
distress. He lost his frank, joyous manner, and no
longer indulged in his original pranks of former days.
He always secluded himself during the forenoon in his
room over the foundry, and had given explicit orders
that he should not be disturbed there. The rest of the
day he worked at the gigantic statue of Mars with his
accustomed ardor, but without talking about it with his
accustomed effusiveness. Especially in Ascanio's pres
ence did he seem gloomy, embarrassed, and almost
shamefaced. He seemed to avoid his dear pupil as if he
were his creditor or his judge. In short, it was easy to
see that some great sorrow or some great passion had
found its way into that manly heart, and was laying it
waste.

Ascanio was hardly more happy ; he was persuaded,
as he had said to Madame d'Etampes, that Colombe did
not love him. Comte d'Orbec, whom he knew only by
name, was, in his jealous thoughts, a young and attract
ive nobleman, and Messire d'Estourville's daughter, the
happy betrothed of a well favored, nobly born lover, had
never for an instant thought of an obscure artist. Even
if he had retained the vague and fleeting hope which
never deserts a heart overflowing with love, he had him
self destroyed his last chance if Madame d'Etampes was
really in love with him, by disclosing to her the name
of her rival. This proposed marriage, which she might
perhaps have prevented, she would now do everything in

SORROW THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 227

her power to hasten forward ; and poor Colombe would
feel the full force of her hatred. Yes, Benvenuto was
right; that woman's love was in very truth a terrible
and deadly thing; hut Colomhe's love would surely be
the sublime, celestial sentiment of which the master had
first spoken, and alas! that immeasurable blessing was
destined for another!

Ascanio was in despair; he had believed in Madame
d'Etampes's friendship, and now it seemed that this
deceitful friendship was a dangerous passion; he had
hoped for Colombe's love, and it seemed that her supposi
titious passion was nothing more than indifferent friend
ship. He felt that he almost hated both these women,
who had so falsified his dreams in that each of them
regarded him as he would have liked to be regarded by
the other.

Entirely absorbed by a feeling of hopeless discourage
ment, he did not once think of the lily ordered by
Madame d'Etampes, and in his jealous anger he would
not repeat his visit to the Petit-Nesle, despite the en
treaties and reproaches of Ruperta, whose innumerable
questions he left unanswered. Sometimes, however, he
repented of the resolution he made on the first day,
which was assuredly cruel to none but himself. He
longed to see Colombe, to demand an explanation. But
of what? Of his own extravagant visions! However,
he would see her, he would think in his softer moments ;
he would confess his love to her as a crime, and she was
so tender-hearted that perhaps she Avould comfort him as
if it were a misfortune. But how explain his absence,
how excuse himself in the maiden's eyes ?

Ascanio allowed the days to pass in innocent, sorrow
ful reflections, and did not dare to take any decided step.

Colombe awaited Ascanio's coming with mingled terror

228 ASCANIO.

and joy on the day following that on which Dame Per-
rine floored the apprentice with her direful revelation;
but in vain did she count the hours and the minutes, in
vain did Dame Perrine keep her ears on the alert. As-
canio, who had recovered in good time from his swoon,
and might have availed himself of Colombo's gracious
permission, did not come, attended by Ruperta, and give
the preconcerted signal at the door in the wall of the
Petit-Nesle. What did it mean?

It meant that Ascanio was ill, dying perhaps, at all
events too ill to come. At least that was what Colombo
thought; she passed the whole evening kneeling at her
prie-Dieu, weeping and praying, and when she ceased to
pray she found that she continued to weep. That dis
covery terrified her. The anxiety which oppressed her
heart was a revelation to her. Indeed, there was suffi
cient cause for alarm, for in less than a month Ascanio
had taken possession of her thoughts to such a degree
as to make her forget her God, her father, and her
misery.

But there was room in her mind for nothing now but
this: Ascanio was suffering within two steps of her; he
would die before she could see him. It was no time to
reason, but to weep and weep. If he should be saved,
she would reflect.

The next day it was still worse. Perrine watched for
Ruperta, and as soon as she saw her leave the house
rushed out to go to market for news far more than for
supplies. Now Ascanio was no longer seriously ill; he
had simply refused to go to the Petit-Nesle, without re
plying to Dame Ruperta's eager questions otherwise than
by obstinately keeping silent. The two gossips were
reduced to conjectures: such a thing was entirely incom
prehensible to them.

SORROW THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 229

Colombe, however, did not seek long for the explana
tion; she said to herself at once : —

" He knows all : he has learned that in three months
I shall be Comte d'Orbec's wife, and he has no wish to
see me again."

Her first impulse was to be grateful to her lover for
his anger, and to smile. Let him explain this secret joy
who can; we are simply the historian. But soon, upon
reflection, she took it ill of Ascanio that he was able to
believe that she was not in despair at the thought of such
a union.

" So he despises me, " she said to herself.

All these impulses, indignant or affectionate, were very
dangerous : they laid bare the heart which before knew
not itself. Colombe said to herself aloud, that she did
not desire to see Ascanio ; but she whispered, that she
awaited his coming to justify herself. She suffered in
her timorous conscience; she suffered in her misappre
hended love.

It was not the only passion which Ascanio did not
Tinderstand. There was another more powerful, more
impatient to make itself known, and which dreamed
darkly of happiness, as hatred dreams of vengeance.

Madame d'Etampes did not believe, did not choose to
believe, in Ascanio's profound passion for Colombe.

" A child who has no conception of what he really
wants, " she said to herself, " who falls in love with the
first pretty girl he sees, who has come in collision with
the high and mighty airs of an empty-headed little fool,
and whose pride takes offence at the least obstacle.
Oh ! when he realizes what true love is, ardent, clinging
love, — when he knows that I, Duchesse d'Etampes,
whose caprice rules a kingdom, love him ! — Ah ! but he
must know it! "

230 ASCANIO.

The Vicomte de Marmagne and the Provost of Paris
suffered in their hatred, as Anne and Colombe suffered
in their love. They harbored mortal enmity to Benve-
nuto, — Marmagne especially. Benvenuto had caused
him to be despised and humiliated by a woman; Benve
nuto constrained him to be brave, for before the scene at
the Hotel d'Etampes the viscount might have had him
poniarded by his people on the street, but now he must
needs go and beard him in his own house, and Mar
magne shuddered with dismay at the prospect. We do
not readily pardon those who force us to realize that we
are cowards.

Thus all were suffering, even Scozzone. Scozzone the
madcap laughed and sang no more, and her eyes were
often red with weeping. Benvenuto did not love her.
Benvenuto was always cold, and sometimes spoke sharply
to her.

Scozzone had for a long time had a fixed idea, which
had become a monomania with her. She was determined
to become Benvenuto's wife. When she first went to
him, expecting to serve him as a plaything, and he
treated her with all the consideration due a wife, and
not as a mere light o' love, the poor child was greatly
exalted by such unlocked for respect and honor, and at
the same time she felt profoundly grateful to her bene
factor, and unaffectedly proud to find herself so highly
esteemed. Afterward, not at Benvenuto's command, but
in response to his entreaty, she gladly consented to serve
him as model, and by dint of seeing her own form and
features so often reproduced, and so often admired, in
bronze, in silver, and in gold, she had simply attributed
half of the goldsmith's success to herself; for the lovely
outlines, which were so loudly praised, belonged to her
much more than to the master. She blushed with

SORROW THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 231

pleasure when Benvenuto was complimented upon the
purity of the lines of this or that figure; she compla
cently persuaded herself that she was indispensable to
her lover's renown, and had become a part of his glory,
even as she had become a part of his heart.

Poor child ! she did not dream that she had never
been to the artist that secret inspiration, that hidden
divinity, which every creator evokes, and which makes
him a creator. Because Benvenuto copied her graceful
attitudes, she believed in good faith that he owed every
thing to her, and little by little she took courage to hope
that, after raising the courtesan to the rank of mistress,
he would raise the mistress to the rank of wife.

As dissimulation was altogether foreign to her charac
ter, she had avowed her ambition in very precise terms.
Cellini listened to her gravely, and replied, —

" This requires consideration. "

The fact was that he would have preferred to return
to the Castle of San Angelo at the risk of breaking his
leg a second time in making his escape. Not that he
despised his dear Scozzone; he loved her dearly, and
sometimes a little jealously, as we have seen, but he
adored art before everything, and his true and lawful
wife was sculpture first of all. Furthermore, when he
should be married, would not the husband depress the
spirits of the gay Bohemian? Would not the pater
familias interfere with the freedom of the sculptor?
And, again, if he must marry all his models, he would
commit bigamy a hundred times over.

" When I cease to love Scozzone, and to need her as a
model, " he said to himself, " I will find some worthy
fellow for her, too short-sighted to look back into the
past and to divine the future, who will see nothing but a
lovely woman and the marriage portion I will give her.

232 ASCANIO

Thus I will satisfy her mania for wearing the name of
wife, bourgeois fashion." For Benvenuto was convinced
that Scozzone's desire was simply to have a husband, and
that it mattered little to her who the husband might be.

Meanwhile, he left the ambitious damsel to take what
comfort she could in her fancies. But since their installa
tion at the Grand-Nesle, her eyes had been opened, and
she realized that she was not so necessary to Cellini's life
and work as she thought, for she could no longer with her
gayety dispel the cloud of melancholy which overhung
his brow, and he had begun to model a Hebe in wax
for which she was not asked to pose. At last, the poor
child — horribile dictu ! — had essayed to play the co
quette with Ascanio in Cellini's presence, and there had
been not the slightest drawing together of the eyebrows
to bear witness to the master's jealous wrath. Must she
then bid farewell to all her blissful dreams, and become
once more a poor, humiliated creature?

As to Pagolo, if any one cares to sound the depths of
his heart, we venture to say that he had never been more
gloomy and taciturn than of late.

It may be imagined that the hilarious student, Jacques
Aubry, had escaped this contagious depression of spirits.
Not at all ; he had his own cause for repining. Simonne,
after waiting a long while for him on the Sunday of the
siege of Nesle, returned to the conjugal mansion in a
rage, and had since stubbornly refused to meet the imper
tinent embryo lawyer upon any pretext whatsoever. He,
in revenge, had withdrawn his custom from his capricious
charmer's husband, but that disgusting tradesman evinced
at the news no other sentiment than the keenest satisfac
tion ; for although Jacques Aubry wore out his clothes
quickly and recklessly — always excepting the pockets —
we must add that his guiding economical maxim was never

SORROW THE GROUNDWORK OF LIFE. 233

to pay for them. When Simonne's influence was no
longer exerted as a counterpoise to the absence of money,
the selfish tailor concluded that the honor of dressing
Jacques Aubry did not compensate him for the loss he
suffered by dressing him for nothing.

Thus our poor friend found himself at one and the
same time bereft of his love and cut short in his supply
of clothing. Luckily, as we have seen, he was not the
man to wither away in melancholy. He soon fell in with
a charming little consolation named Gervaise. But Ger-
vaise was bristling all over with principles of all sorts,
which to his mind were most absurd. She eluded him
again and again, and he wore his heart out in devising
means to bring the flirt to her senses. He almost lost the
power to eat and drink, especially as his infamous land
lord, who was own cousin to his infamous tailor, refused
to give him credit.

Thus all whose names have figured prominently in
these pages were sorely ill at ease, — from the king, who
was very anxious to know whether Charles V. would or
would not conclude to pass through France, to iJame
Perrine and Dame Ruperta, who were much put out at
their inability to continue their gossip. If our readers,
like Jupiter of old, had the wearisome privilege of listen
ing to all the complaints and all the wishes of mankind,
they would hear a plaintive chorus something like this : —

Jacques Aubry : " If Gervaise would only cease to
laugh in my face ! "

Scozzone : " If Benvenuto would only have one pang
of jealousy ! "

Pagolo : " If Scozzone could only bring herself to
detest the master ! "

Marmagne : " If I might have the good fortune to sur
prise Cellini alone ! "

234 ASCANIO.

Madame d'Etampes : " If Ascanio only knew how I
love him ! "

Colombe : " If I could see him for one moment, — long
enough to justify myself ! "

Ascanio : " If she would only explain ! "

Benvenuto : " If I dared confess my agony to Ascanio ! "

All: "Alas! alas! alas!"

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 235

XV.

WHEREIN IT APPEARS THAT JOY IS NOTHING MORE
THAN SORROW IN ANOTHER FORM.

ALL these longings were to be gratified before the end of
the week. But their gratification was destined to leave
those who had formed them more unhappy and more
melancholy than ever. Such is the universal law ; every
joy contains the germ of sorrow.

In the first place Gervaise ceased to laugh in Jacques
Aubry's face ; a change most ardently desired by the stu
dent, as the reader will remember. Jacques Aubry had
discovered the golden fetters which were to bind the
damsel to his chariot. They consisted in a lovely ring
carved by Benvenuto himself, and representing two
clasped hands.

It should be said that, since the day of the siege,
Jacques Aubry had conceived a warm friendship for the
outspoken and energetic nature of the Florentine artist.
He did not interrupt him when he was speaking, — an
unheard of thing ! He kept his eyes fixed upon him and
listened to him with respect, which was more than he
had ever consented to do for his professors. He admired
his work with an enthusiasm which, if not very en
lightened, was at least very warm and sincere. On the
other hand, his loyalty, his courage, and his jovial dis
position attracted Cellini. He was just strong enough at
tennis to make a good fight, but to lose in the end. He

236 ASCANIO.

was his match at table, within a bottle. In short he and
the goldsmith had become the best friends in the world,
and Cellini, generous because his wealth was inexhaust
ible, had one day forced him to accept this little ring,
which was carved with such marvellous skill that, in de
fault of the apple, it would have tempted Eve, and sown
discord between Peleus and Thetis.

On the morrow of the day when the ring passed from
Jacques Aubry's hands to those of Gervaise, Gervaise
resumed a serious demeanor, and the student hoped that
she was his. Poor fool ! on the contrary, he was hers.

Scozzone succeeded, as she desired, in kindling a spark
of jealousy in Benvenuto's heart. This is how it came
about.

One evening, when her wiles and coquetries had as
usual failed to arouse the master from his imperturbable
gravity, she assumed a solemn expression herself.

" Benvenuto," said she, " it seems to me, do you know,
as if you had forgotten your promise to me."

"What promise is that, my dear child?" rejoined Ben
venuto, apparently seeking an explanation of her reproach
from the ceiling.

"Haven't you promised a hundred times to marry
me?"

" I don't remember it."

"You don't remember it?"

" No ; I should say that my only reply was, ' This
requires consideration.' "

" Well ! have you considered it ? "

" Yes."
• " With what result ? "

" That I am still too young to be anything else than
your lover, Scozzone. We will speak of it again later."

"And I am no longer foolish enough, monsieur, to be

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 237

content with so vague a promise as that, and to wait for
you forever."

" Do as you please, little one, and if you are in so
great a hurry, go ahead."

" But what prejudice have you against marriage, after
all t Why need it make any change in your life ? You
will have made a poor girl, who loves you, happy, that 's
all."

" What change will it make in my life, Scozzone ? "
said Benvenuto gravely. " You see yonder candle, whose
pale flame but feebly lights this great room where we
are : I place an extinguisher over it, and now it is quite
dark. Marriage would do the same to my life. Light
the candle again, Scozzone : I detest the darkness."

" I understand," cried Scozzone volubty, bursting into
tears, " you bear too illustrious a name to give to a poor
girl, a nobody, who has given you her heart and her life,
all that she had to give, and is ready to suffer everything
for you, who lives only in your life, who loves only you — "

" I know it, Scozzone, and I assure you that I am as
grateful as possible."

" Who has gladly done her best to enliven your soli
tude, who, knowing your jealous disposition, never looks
at the cavalcades of handsome archers and sergeants, who
has always closed her ears to the soft words which she
has not failed to hear, nevertheless, even here."

" Even here ? " rejoined Benvenuto.

" Yes, here, even here, do you understand ? "

" Scozzone," cried Benvenuto, " it 's not one of my
comrades, I trust, who has dared so to insult his
master ! "

" He would marry me if I would let him," continued
Scozzone, attributing Cellini's wrath to a rejuvenescenco
of his love for her.

238 ASCANIO.

" Scozzone, tell me the insolent varlet's name. It 's
not Ascanio, I hope."

" There is a man who has said to me more than a
hundred times, 'Catherine, the master abuses you; he
will never marry you, sweet and pretty as you are ; he is
too proud for that. Oh ! if he loved you as I love you,
or if you would love me as you love him ! ' '

" Give me his name, the traitor's name ! " cried Ben-
venuto.

" But I simply would not listen to him," continued
Scozzone, enchanted at the success of her stratagem ;
"on the contrary, all his soft words were wasted, and I
threatened to tell you all if he kept on. I loved only
you. I was blind, and the gallant got nothing by his
fine speeches and his languishing looks. Oh, put on
your indifferent air, and pretend not to believe me ! it is
all true, none the less."

" I do not believe you, Scozzone," said Benvenuto, who
saw that, if he desired to know his rival's name, he must
employ a very different method from any he had hitherto
attempted.

" What, you don't believe me ? "

" No."

" You think that I am lying? "

" I think that you are mistaken."

" In your opinion, then, it 's not possible for any one
to love me ? "

" I don't say that."

" But you think it 1 "

Benvenuto smiled, for he saw that he had found a
way to make Catherine speak.

" But there is some one who loves me, and that 's the
truth," continued Scozzone.

Benvenuto made another gesture indicating incredulity.

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 230

" He loves me more than you ever loved me, more than
you ever will love me, monsieur, do you understand 1 "

Benvenuto began to laugh heartily.

" I am very curious to know who this gallant Medor
is," he said.

" His name is not Medor," retorted Catherine.

" What then, — Amadis 1 "

" Nor Amadis. His name is — "

" Galaor 1 "

" His name is Pagolo, if you must know."

" Aha ! so it 's Monsieur Pagolo ! " muttered Cellini.

" Yes, it 's Monsieur Pagolo," rejoined Scozzone,
wounded by the contemptuous tone in which Cellini
uttered his rival's name, — "a boy of good family, sedate,
quiet, devout, and who would make a most excellent
husband."

" Is that your opinion, Scozzone ? "

" Yes, it is my opinion."

" And yet you have never given him any hope ? "

" I have never listened to him. Oh ! I was a great
fool! But after this — "

" You are right, Scozzone ; you should listen to him,
and reply to him."

" How so ? What 's that you say ? "

" I bid you listen when he speaks to you of love, and
not turn him away. I will attend to the rest."

"But — "

" But, never fear, I have my plan."

" A la bonne heure. But I hope you don't propose to
punish him very severely, poor devil ; he acts as if he
were confessing his sins when he says, 'I love you.'
Play him a trick, if you choose, but not with your sword.
I ask mercy for him."

" You will be content with my vengeance, Scozzone,
for it will turn to your advantage."

240 ASCANIO.

" In what way ? "

" It will help to gratify one of your fondest desires."

" What do you mean, Benvenuto ? "

" That is my secret."

" Oh, if you knew what an absurd figure he cuts when
he tries to be tender ! " said the volatile creature, incapable
of remaining sad five minutes in succession. " And so,
naughty man, you < are still interested to know whether
any one is paying court to your giddy girl ? You do still
love poor S'cozzone a little ? "

" Yes. But do not fail to follow the instructions I
give you in regard to Pagolo to the letter."

" Oh, don't be afraid ! I can play a part as well as
another. It won't be long before he will say to me,
' Catherine, are you still cruel 1 ' and I will reply,
' What ! again, Monsieur Pagolo 1 ' But in a not very
indignant tone, you understand, — encouraging rather.
When he sees that I am no longer harsh, he will think
he's conquered the world. But what shall you do to
him, Benvenuto? When shall you begin to take your
revenge upon him 1 Will it be long drawn out, and very
amusing 1 Shall we laugh ? "

" Yes, we shall laugh," Benvenuto replied.

" And you will always love me ? "

Benvenuto imprinted an assenting kiss upon her fore
head, — the best of all answers, since it answers for
everything without answering for anything.

Poor Scozzone did not suspect that Cellini's kiss was
the beginning of his vengeance.

The Vicomte de Marmagne's wish that he might find
Benvenuto alone was also gratified. This is how it came
about.

Spurred on by the provost's anger, goaded by the
memory of Madame d'Etampes's disdain, aud influenced

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 241

above all by his inordinate avarice, the viscount, having
resolved to attack the lion in his den with the aid of his
two sbirri, selected for his enterprise Saint Eloy's day,
when the studio was likely to be deserted, as it was a
holiday in the goldsmith's guild. He was proceeding
along the quay, with his head high, and his heart
beating fast, his two bravos walking ten steps behind
him.

" Well, well ! " said a voice at his side : " here 's a
fine young gentleman on amorous conquest bent, with his
valorous bearing for the lady, and his two sbirri for the
husband."

Marmagne turned, thinking that some one of his friends
was speaking to him, but he saw only a stranger who was
going in the same direction as himself, but whom in his
absorption he had failed to observe.

" I '11 wager that I have guessed the truth, my fair sir,"
continued the stranger. " I will bet my purse against
yours, without knowing what it contains, that you are out
on some such errand. Oh, tell me nothing ! it 's one's
duty to be circumspect in love. My own name is Jacques
Aubry ; my profession, student ; and I am on my way at
present to an appointment with my sweetheart, Gervaise
Philipot, a pretty girl, but, between ourselves, of appalling
virtue, which suffered shipwreck, however, upon a certain
ring. To be sure the ring was a jewel, and a jewel of
marvellous workmanship, nothing less than one of Ben-
venuto Cellini's own ! "

Until then the Vicomte de Marmagne had hardly lis
tened to the confidences of his loquacious interlocutor,
and had been careful not to reply. But his interest was
aroused by the name of Benvenuto Cellini.

" One of Benvenuto Cellini's carvings ! The devil !
That 's a royal gift for a student to make 1 "

VOL. I. — 16

242 ASCANIO.

" Oh ! pray understand, my dear baron — Are you
baron, count, or viscount 1 "

" Viscount," said Marmagne, biting his lips at the im
pertinent familiarity with which the student assumed to
address him, but anxious to find out if he could not pro
cure some valuable information from him.

"Pray understand, my dear viscount, that I did not
buy it. No, although I 'm an artist in my way, I don't
put my money into such trifles. Benvenuto himself gave
it to me in acknowledgment of my lending him a hand
last Sunday to take the Grand-Nesle from the provost."

" Then you are Cellini's friend ? " Marmagne inquired.

" His most intimate friend, viscount, and I glory in it.
Between ourselves it 's a friendship for life and death.
Doubtless you also know him ? "

" Yes."

" You are very fortunate. A sublime genius, is he not,
my dear fellow ? Pardon me : I say, ' my dear fellow,'
but it fs simply my way of speaking ; besides I think that
I am nobly born, too, — at least my mother used to tell
my father so whenever he beat her. However, I am, as
I told you, the admirer, the confidant, the brother of the
great Benvenuto Cellini, and consequently a friend to his
friends, and a foe to his foes ; for my sublime goldsmith
does n't lack foes. In the first place Madame d'Etampes,
secondly, the Provost of Paris, the old villain, and thirdly,
a certain Vicomte de Marmagne, a great, lanky creature,
whom you perhaps know, and who proposes, so they say,
to take possession of the Grand-Nesle. Pardieu ! he '11
have a warm reception ! "

" Benvenuto has heard of his claim, has he 1 •' queried
Marmagne, beginning to take a very decided interest in
the student's conversation.

" He has been warned ; but — Hold ! I must not tell

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 243

you, so that the aforesaid Marmagne may receive the
chastisement he deserves."

" From what you say I judge that Benvenuto is on his
guard 1 "

"On his guard? why, Benvenuto is always on his
guard. He has come within an ace of being assassinated,
I don't know how many times ; but, thank God, he has
always come safely out of it ! "

" What do you mean by on his guard? "

" Oh ! I don't mean that he has a garrison, as that old
poltroon of a provost had ; no, no, quite the contrary.
Indeed, he is entirely alone at this moment as all the
fellows have gone to Vanvres for a holiday. I was to go
myself, and play a game of tennis with him, dear Ben
venuto. Unluckily Gervaise's convenience conflicted with
the great artist's, and naturally, as you will agree, I gave
the preference to Gervaise."

" In that case I will take your place with Benvenuto,''
said Marmagne.

" Do so ; it will be a meritorious action on your part ;
go, my dear viscount, and say to Benvenuto from me
that he will see me this evening. Three knocks, rather
loud, is the signal, you know. He adopted that precau
tion on account of that great oaf of a Marmagne, who is
likely, so he imagines, to try to play him some scurvy
trick. Do you know this Vicomte de Marmagne ? "

"No."

" Ah ! so much the worse ! You might have described
him to me."

"What for?"

" So that I might suggest a little game with clubs to
him, if I should fall in with him. I don't know why it
is, but although I never saw him, do you know I particu
larly detest your Marmagne, my dear fellow, and if he

244 ASCANIO.

ever falls in my way, I propose to pummel him in fine
shape. But pardon me : here we are at the Augustins,
and I am compelled to leave you. By the way, what is
your name, my friend 1 "

The viscount walked away as if he did not hear the
question.

" Aha ! " said Jacques Aubry, " it seems that we prefer
to remain incog ; that 's the purest chivalry, or I don't
know myself. As you please, my dear viscount, as you
please."

And Jacques Auhry thrust his hands in his pockets
and strutted down Rue de Battoir, at the end of which
Gervaise lived, whistling a student's song.

The Vicomte de Marmagne continued his journey
toward the Grand-Nesle.

Benvenuto was in fact alone, as Jacques Aubry had
said ; Ascanio had wandered away, I know not where, to
dream ; Catherine had gone with Ruperta to visit one of
her friends, and all the workmen and apprentices were
holiday making at Vanvres.

The master was in the garden working at the clay
model of his gigantic statue of Mars, whose colossal head
could see the Louvre over the roofs of the Grand- Xesle,
when little Jehan, who was on guard at the door for the
day, deceived by Marmagne's manner of knocking, took
him for a friend, and admitted him with his two sbirri.

If Benvenuto did not, like Titian, work with his coat
of mail upon his back, he did, like Salvator Rosa, work
with his sword at his side, and his carbine within reach
of his hand. Marmagne therefore quickly discovered
that he had gained very little by surprising him ; he had
simply surprised an armed man.

The viscount did not even try to dissemble his bravado
born of poltroonery ; and when Cellini, in an imperative

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 245

tone which called for an immediate reply, demanded why
he had come upon his premises, —

" I have no business with you," was Ids answer; "I
am the Vicomte de Marmagne ; I am the king's secretary,
and here is an order from his Majesty," he added, hold
ing a paper above his head, " which allots a portion of
the Grand-Nesle to me ; I am here to make provision for
arranging to my taste that portion of the hotel which is
allotted to me, and which I shall occupy henceforth."

With that, Marmagne, still followed by his two sbirri,
stalked toward the door of the chateau.

Benvenuto seized his carbine, which was, as we have
said, within his reach, and with one bound stood in front
of the door on the stoop.

" Halt where you are ! " he cried in a terrible voice,
stretching out his right arm in Marmagne's direction ;
" one step more, and you 're a dead man ! "

The viscount at once stopped short, although after
these preliminaries we might perhaps have anticipated a
desperate conflict.

But there are men to whom is given the power to
strike terror to other men's hearts. There is an inde
scribable something in their look, their gestures, their
attitude, as in the look, the gestures, and the attitude
of the lion. The air about them is instinct with awe ;
their power is felt afar off. When they stamp upon the
ground, clench their fists, knit their brows, or inflate their
nostrils, the boldest hesitate to attack them. A wild
beast, whose young are attacked, has but to bristle up
and breathe noisily to make the assailant tremble. The
men of whom we speak are living dangers. Valiant
hearts recognize their like in them, and go straight for
ward to meet them, despite their secret emotion. But
the weak, the timid, the cowardly, recoil at sight of them.

246 ASCANIO.

Now Marmagne, as the reader has discovered, was not
a valiant heart, and Benvenuto had all the appearance of
a living danger.

And so when the viscount heard the redoubtable gold
smith's voice, and observed the imperial gesture of the
arm extended toward him, he realized that death for
himself and his two sbirri lay dormant in the carbine, the
sword, and the dagger with which he was armed.

Furthermore, little Jehan, seeing that his master was
threatened, had armed himself with a pike.

Marmagne felt that his game was up, and that he
would be only too fortunate if he could extricate himself
safe and sound from the wasps' nest he had stumbled
upon.

" It 's all right ! it 's all right ! Messire Goldsmith," he
said. " All that we wanted was to know whether you
were or were not disposed to obey his Majesty's orders.
You scoff at them, and refuse to abide by them ! Very
good ! We shall apply to some one who will find a way
to compel their execution. But do not hope that we
shall do ourselves the honor of bargaining with you.
Honsoir ! "

" Honsoir I " said Benvenuto, with his hearty laugh.
"Jehan, show these gentlemen out."

The viscount and his two sbirri shamefacedly retreated
from the Grand-Nesle, cowed by one man, and shown out
by a mere boy.

Such was the lamentable result of the fulfilment of the
viscount's wish : " If only I could find Benvenuto alone ! "

As he had been even more cruelly treated by fate in
the matter of his desires than Jacques Aubry and Scoz-
zoue, who did not even yet detect the irony of destiny,
our valorous viscount was furious.

" Madame d'Etanipes was right," he said to himself,

JOY NOTHING MORE THAN SORROW. 247

"and I am fain to follow the advice she gave me ; I must
break my sword and sharpen my dagger. This devil of
a man is just what he is said to be, very intolerant, and
not at all agreeable. I saw it written plainly enough in
his eyes, that if I took another step I was a dead man ;
but in every lost cause there is a possibility of revenge.
Look well to yourself, Master Benvenuto ! look well to
yourself ! "

He proceeded to lay the blame upon his companions,
who were tried men, however, and would have asked
nothing better than to earn their money honestly, by
slaying or being themselves slain : in retiring, they had
simply obeyed their master's orders. They promised to
give a better account of themselves in an ambuscade ;
but as Marmagne, to shield his own honor, claimed that
the check he had met with was due to them, he informed
them that he did not propose to accompany them in their
next undertaking, and that they must go through with it
alone as best they could. It was the very thing they
most desired.

Having enjoined silence upon them concerning their
recent experience, he called upon the Provost of Paris,
and informed him that he had concluded that the surest
way to avoid all suspicion was to postpone Benvenuto's
punishment until some day when, as frequently happened,
he ventured into a lonely, deserted street with a consider
able sum of money, or some valuable piece of his handi
work. Then it would be believed that he had been
murdered by robbers.

It now remains for us to see how the wishes of Madame
d'Etampes, Ascanio, and Cellini were gratified to their
increased sorrow.

248 ASCANIO.

XVI.

A COURT.

MEANWHILE Ascanio had completed the design for his lily,
and, perhaps from mere curiosity, perhaps under the in
fluence of the magnet which attracts the wretched to those
who sympathize with them, he at once repaired to the
Hotel d'Etampes. It was about two o'clock in the after
noon, and just at that hour the duchess was sitting upon
her throne, surrounded by a veritable court ; but similar
orders to those which were given at the Louvre relating to
Benvenuto, were given at the Hotel d'Etampes for Ascanio.
He was therefore at once escorted to a reception-room,
and his arrival was made known to the duchess.

She trembled with joy at the thought that the young
man was about to see her in all her splendor, and gave
certain orders in a low tone to Isabeau, who had brought
her the message. Isabeau returned to Ascanio, took him
by the hand without a word, led him into a corridor,
raised a heavy curtain, and gently pushed him forward.
He found himself in the duchess's salon, immediately be
hind the arm-chair of the sovereign of the mansion, who
guessed his presence more by the thrill which ran through
her whole being than by the rustling of the curtain, and
gave him her fair hand to kiss over her shoulder, which
his lips almost touched in the position in which he stood.

The lovely duchess was, as we have said, surrounded
by a veritable court. At her right was seated the Duke

A COURT. 249

of Medina-Siclonia, ambassador of Charles V. ; Monsieur
de Montbrion, governor of Charles d'Orleans, the king's
second son, was at her left ; the rest of the company sat
in a circle at her feet.

With the leading personages of the kingdom — war
riors, statesmen, magistrates, artists, — were assembled the
leaders of the Protestant sect, which Madame d'Etampes
secretly favored ; great nobles all, and much courted, who
had constituted themselves courtiers of the favorite. It
was a gorgeous throng, and dazzling to the eyes at first
sight. The conversation was enlivened with satirical
remarks of all sorts concerning Diane de Poitiers, mis
tress of the Dauphin, and the bitter enemy of Madame
d'Etampes. But Anne took no part in this petty warfare
of quips and cranks, save by a word or two thrown in at
random now and then, as, " Softly, messieurs, softly ! no
abuse of Madame Diane, or Endymion will be angry ! "
or, " Poor Madame Diane ! she was married the day I
was born ! "

Except for these sparks with which she lighted up the
conversation, Madame d'Etampes hardly spoke to any
body beside her two neighbors. She talked with them in
undertones, but with great animation, and not so low that
Ascanio, who was humble and abashed among so many
great men, could not hear her.

" Yes, Monsieur de Montbrion," said she confidentially
to her left-hand neighbor, " we must make an admirable
prince of your pupil ; he is the real king of the future,
you know. I am ambitious for the dear child, and I am
engaged at this moment in carving out an independent
sovereignty for him in case God should take his father
from us. Henri II., a poor creature, between ourselves,
will be King of France ; so be it. Our king will be a
French king, and we will leave Madame Diane and Paris

250 ASCANIO.

to his elder brother. But we will take with as, with our
Charles, the heart of Paris. The court will be where I
am, Monsieur de Montbrion ; I shall displace the sun.
We shall have great painters like Primaticcio, charming
poets like Clement Marot, who is fidgeting about yonder
in his corner without speaking, a sure proof that he
would like an opportunity to repeat some verses to us-
All these people are at heart more vain than selfish, and
more thirsty for glory than for money. Not he who has
the greatest wealth, but he who will flatter them most
freely, will have them on his side. And he who has them
will be always great, for they will shed lustre upon any
place upon which their rays fall. The Dauphin cares for
naught but jousting ! Oh, well ! let him keep the lances
and swords, and we will take the pens and the brushes
with us. Never fear, Monsieur de Montbrion, I will
never allow myself to be put down by Madame Diane,
the queen in expectancy. Let her wait patiently till
time and chance give her her kingdom. I shall have
made one for myself twice over meanwhile. What say
you to the Duchy of Milan ? There you will not be very
far from your friends at Geneva ; for I know that you are
not altogether indifferent to the new doctrine blown over
from Germany. Hush ! we will speak of this again, and
I will tell you things that will surprise you. Wh}r has
Madame Diane assumed to set herself up as protectress
of the Catholics ? She protects, I protest ; that 's the
difference between us."

With an imperative gesture and a meaning glance,
Madame d'Etampes brought her confidences upon this
subject to a close, leaving the governor of Charles d'Or.
leans sadly bewildered. He was on the point of reply
ing, nevertheless, but found that the duchess had already
turned to the Duke of Mediua-Sidouia.

A COURT. 251

We have said that Ascanio could hear all.

" Well, Monsieur 1'Ambassadeur," so Madame d'Etampea
began, "does the Emperor finally conclude to pass through
France ] He can hardly do otherwise, to tell the truth,
and a net on land is always preferable to a yawning gulf
at sea. His cousin Henry VIII. would have no scruples
about kidnapping him, and if he escaped the English he
would fall into the hands of the Turk. By land the three
Protestant princes would oppose his passage. What can
he do? He must either proceed through France, or else
— cruel sacrifice ! — forego the chastisement of the rebels
of Ghent, his dear compatriots. For our great Emperor
Charles is a good burgher of Ghent. That is very evi
dent in the slight respect which he has shown on occasion
for Royal Majesty. Memories of that sort are what make
him so timid and circumspect to-day, Monsieur de Medina.
Oh, we understand it all ! He fears that the King of
France will avenge the prisoner in Spain, and that the
prisoner at Paris may pay the balance of the ransom due
from the prisoner of the Escurial. O mon Dieu ! let his
mind be at ease ; even if he does not comprehend our
chivalrous loyalty, he has heard of it, I trust."

" Most assuredly, Madame la Duchesse," said the am
bassador, " we know the loyalty of FranQois I. when left
to his own devices, but we fear — "

The duke paused.

" You fear his advisers, do you not ? " rejoined the
duchess. " Yes, yes ! Oh, I know very well that advice
from a pretty mouth, advice which should take a clever
and satirical form, would neve" fail of influence upon a
king's mind. It is your duty to think of that, Monsieur
1'Ambassadeur, and take your precautions accordingly.
After all, you must have full powers, or, if not full powers,
a little paper signed in blank, wherein a good many

252 ASCANIO.

things can be inserted in a few words. We know how
it 's done. We have studied diplomacy ; indeed, I once
asked the king to make me an ambassador, for I believe
that I have a decided talent for negotiation. Yes, I am
sure that it would be very painful for Charles V. to give
up a slice of his empire in order to obtain his release, or
to assure his inviolability. On the other hand, Flanders
is one of the fairest jewels of his crown ; it is the inher
itance of his mother, Marie de Bourgogne, and it is hard
to renounce the patrimony of one's ancestors with a stroke
of the pen, especially when that patrimony is a great
duchy, which may well be transformed into a little
monarchy. But what am I saying, mon Dieu ! I, who
have a perfect horror of politics, for it is universally
agreed that politics and women do not go well together.
To be sure, I let fall a word or two thoughtlessly now
and then on affairs of state, but if his Majesty presses me
and insists upon my expressing my thoughts more fully,
I beg him to spare me such tiresome discussions, and
sometimes I run away and leave him alone to dream
upon them. You, clever diplomatist that you are, and
who know mankind so well, will tell me that these words
tossed into the air are just the ones which take root in
minds like the king's, and that such words, which are
supposed to have been blown away by the wind, almost
always have more weight than a long harangue which is
not listened to. That may be, Monsieur le Due de
Medina, that may be, but I am only a poor woman,
engrossed with ribbons and gewgaws, and you under
stand all these serious matters a thousand times better
than I; but the lion may have need of the ant, the
skiff may save the ship. We are here to come to an
understanding, Monsieur le Due, and that 's all we have
to do."

A COURT. 253

" If you choose, madame," said the ambassador, " it
will be very quickly done."

" Who gives to-day receives to-morrow," continued the
duchess, evading a direct reply ; " my womanly instinct
will always lead me to advise Frai^ois I. to perform great
and generous deeds, but instinct often turns its back on
reason. We must also think of our interest, of the in
terest of France, of course. But I have confidence in
you, Monsieur de Medina ; I will ask your advice, and
upon the whole I think that the Emperor will do well to
rely \ipon the king's word.

" Ah ! if you were in our interest, madame, he would
not hesitate."

" Master Clement Marot," said the duchess, abruptly
breaking off the conversation, as if she had not heard the
ambassador's last exclamation ; " Master Clement Marot,
do you not happen to have some flowing madrigal, or
some stately sonnet to repeat to us 1 "

" Madame," said the poet, " sonnets and madrigals are
natural flowers beneath your feet, and grow apace in the
sunshine of your lovely eyes : half a score of lines have
come to my mind simply from looking into them."

" Indeed, master ! Very good ! we will listen to them.
Ah ! Messire le Prevot, welcome ; pray forgive me for
not seeing you at once. Have you news of your future
son-in-law, our friend Comte d'Orbec 1 "

"Yes, madame," replied D'Estourville, "he writes
that he is to hasten his return, and we shall soon see him,
I trust."

A half suppressed sigh made Madame d'Etampes start,
but she said, without turning toward its author : —

" He will be welcomed by us all. Well, Vicomte de
Marmagne," she continued, " have you found the sheath
of your dagger 1 "

254 ASCANIO.

" No, madame ; but I am on the trace of it, and I
know how and where to find it now."

" Good luck to you then, Monsieur le Vicomte, good luck
to you. Are you ready, Master Clement ? we are all ears."

" The subject is the duchy of Etampes," said Marot.

A murmur of approval ran through the room, and the
poet recited the following lines in an affected voice : —

" Ce plaisant val que Ton nomme Tempe"
Dont maiute histoire est encore embellie,
Arrose d'eau, si doux, si attrempe',
Sachez que plus il n'est en Thessalie ;
Jupiter, roi qui les cceurs gagne et lie,
L'a de Thessale en France remue',
Et quelque peu son propre nom mud,
Car pour Tempe' veut qu'Etampes s'appelle,
Ainsi lui plait, ainsi 1'a situe
Pour y loger de France la plus belle." l

Madame d'Etampes clapped her hands and smiled, and
all the hands and all the lips applauded after her.

" Faith ! " said she, " I see that Jupiter transported
Pindarus to France when he transported Tempe."

With that the duchess rose, and all the company fol
lowed suit. She was fully justified in deeming herself
the veritable queen ; and it was a true queenly gesture
with which she took leave of her guests, and it was as a
queen that all saluted her as they withdrew.

1 That lovely valley called the Vale of Tempe,
Whose refreshing shade doth many a tale adorn,
Watered by cool and limpid streamlets,
Is no more to be found in Thessaly :

For Jupiter, the king who conquers hearts and binds them,
Has bodily transported it from Thessaly to France,
And in a slight degree has changed its name :
For Tetnpe read Etampes; such is his will,
And he hath so ordained, and placed it there,
That there might dwell she who is France's loveliest.

A COURT. 255

" Remain," she said in a low voice to Ascanio.

Ascanio obeyed.

But when all the others had left the room, it was no
haughty and disdainful queen, but an humble and pas
sionate woman, who turned and confronted the young
artist.

Ascanio, born of humble parents, brought up far from
the world, in the almost cloister-like twilight of the studio,
and an unaccustomed guest in palaces, whither he had
accompanied his master only on rare occasions, was
already giddy, confused, dazzled by the light and noise
and conversation. His mind was attacked by something
very like vertigo when he heard Madame d'Etampes
speak in such simple terms, or rather so coquettishly, of
such grave subjects, and touch lightly in familiar phrase
upon the destinies of kings and the dismemberment of
kingdoms. The woman, like a very Providence, had in
some sort distributed to each one his portion of joy or
sorrow ; she had with the same hand rattled fetters and
let crowns fall. And lo ! this sovereign of the loftiest
earthly things, proud as Lucifer with her noble flatterers,
turned to him not only with the soft glance of the loving
woman, but with the suppliant air of the slave who fears.
Ascanio had suddenly become the leading character in the
play, instead of a simple spectator.

It should be said that the coquettish duchess had skil
fully planned and brought about this effect. Ascanio
was conscious of the empire which this woman assumed,
despite his efforts to combat it, not over his heart, but
over his mind ; and like the child that he was, he sought to
hide his trouble beneath a cold, stern demeanor. It may
perhaps be that he had seen his spotless Colombe pass
like a ghost between the duchess and himself, — Colornbe
with her white robe and her luminous brow.

256 ASCANIO.

XVII.

LOVE AS PASSION.

" MADAME," said Ascanio, " you requested me to design a
lily, do you remember? You ordered me to bring the
design to you as soon as it sbould be completed. I com
pleted it this morning, and I have it here."

"We have time enough, Ascanio," said the duchess,
with a smile, and in a siren's voice. " Sit you down,
pray. Well, my bonny invalid, what of your wound ? "

" I am entirely recovered, madame."

" So far as your shoulder is concerned ; but here ? "
said the duchess, laying her hand upon the young man's
heart, with a graceful gesture, and a world of sentiment
in her tone.

" I beg you, raadame, to forget all that nonsense ; I
am very angry with myself for having annoyed your
ladyship with it."

"0 mon Dieu ! what means this air of constraint?
What means this clouded brow, and this harsh voice ?
All those men wearied you, did they not, Ascanio ? —
and as for myself, I hate and abhor them, but I fear
them ! Oh how I longed to be alone with you ! Did
you not see how quickly I dismissed them ? "

" You are right, madame ; I felt sadly out of place in
such a distinguished company. I, a poor artist, who am
here simply to show you this lily."

LOVE AS PASSION. 257

" Ah ! mon DIeu ! in a moment, Ascanio," continued
the duchess, shaking her head ; " you are very cold, and
very sober with a friend. The other day you were so
expansive and so delightful ! Why this change, Ascanio ?
Doubtless some speech of your master's, who cannot
endure me. How could you listen to him, Ascanio ?
Come, be frank ; you have discussed me with him, have
you not ? and he told you that it was dangerous to trust
me ; that the friendly feeling I had manifested for you
concealed some snare ; he told you, did he not, that I
detest you 1 "

" He told me that you loved me, madame," retorted
Ascanio, looking earnestly into her face.

Madame d'Etampes was speechless for a moment, in
presence of the thoughts which rushed through her mind.
She wished without doubt that Ascanio should know her
love, but she would have liked time to prepare him for
it, and to extinguish gradually, without seeming inter
ested in so doing, his passion for Colombe. Now that
the ambuscade she had arranged was discovered, she
must fight her battle in the broad daylight, and win the
victory openly if at all. She made her decision in a
second.

" Well, yes," said she, " I do love you. Is it a crime?
Is it a sin even ? Can one command one's love or hatred 1
You should never nave known that I love you. For why
tell you, when you love another 1 But that man revealed
the whole truth, he laid bare my heart to you, and he
did well, Ascanio. Look upon it, and you will see there
adoration so deep that you can but be touched by it.
And now, Ascanio, you must love me too, mark that."

Anne d'Etampes, a potent, superior nature, disdainful
by instinct and ambitious from weariness of her surround
ings, had had several lovers hitherto, but not one love.
VOL. i. — 17

258 ASCANIO.

She had fascinated the king, Admiral Brion had taken
her by surprise, the Comte de Longueval caught her
fancy for the moment, but throughout all these intrigues
the head had always taken the place of the heart. At
last, one day she found this young, true love, tender and
deep, which she had so often summoned without avail,
and now another woman disputed its possession with her.
Ah ! so much the worse for that other woman ! She
could not know what an irresistible passion she had to
contend with. All the determination and all the violent
impulses of her heart, she, Anne d'Etan:pes. would make
manifest in her affection. That woman did not yet know
what a fatal thing it would be to have the Duchesse
d'Etampes for her rival, the Duchesse d'Etampes, who
desired to have her Ascanio to herself, and whose power
was such that she could, with a look, a word, a gesture,
crush whatever might come between him and herself.
The die was cast, the ambition and the beauty of the
king's mistress were thenceforth to serve no other mas
ters than her love for Ascanio and her jealousy of
Colombo.

Poor Colombe, at that moment bending over her
embroidery, sitting at her spinning-wheel, or kneeling
before her prie-Dieu !

Ascanio, in presence of so outspoken and so redoubta
ble a passion, felt fascinated, carried away, and dismayed,
all at the same moment. Benvenuto had said, and
Ascanio now realized, that this was no mere whim ; but
he was deficient, not in the strength to struggle, but in
the experience which would have taught him to feign
submission. He was hardly twenty years old, and was
too candid to pretend ; he fancied, poor child, that the
memory of Colombe, the name of the innocent girl
uttered by him, would be an offensive and defensive

LOVE AS PASSION. 259

weapon, a sword and a shield, while on the other hand
it was sure to drive the shaft still deeper into the heart
of Madame d'Etampes, who perhaps would soon have
grown weary of a love in which she had no rival and no
battle to wage.

" Come, Ascanio," she resumed more calmly, seeing
that the young man held his peace, alarmed perhaps hy
the words she had let fall, " let us for to-day forget my
love, which an imprudent word of yours inopportunely
awakened. Let us think now of yourself only. Oh ! I
love you more on your own account than mine, I swear
to you. I long to brighten your life as you have bright
ened mine. You are an orphan, take me for your mother.
You heard what I said to Montbrion and Medina, and
you may have thought that I am all ambition. 'Tis true,
I am ambitious, but for you alone. How long is it since
I conceived this project of creating an independent duchy
in the heart of Italy for a son of France ? Only since I
have loved you. If I were queen there, who would be
the veritable king? You. For you I would cause
empire and kingdom to change places ! Ah ! Ascanio,
you do not know me ; you do not know what a woman I
am. You see that I tell you the whole truth, I unfold
my plans to you without reserve. Now do you, in your
turn, confide in me, Ascanio. "What are your wishes,
that I may fulfil them ! "What are your passions, that I
may minister to them ! "

" Madame, I desire to be as frank and loyal as yourself,
and to tell you the truth, as you have told it to me. I
ask nothing, I wish nothing, I long for nothing, save
dolomite's love."

" But she loves you not ; you yourself told me so ! "

" I was desperate the other day, true. But to-day
who can say ? " Ascanio lowered his eyes and his voice :
" For you love me ! " he added.

260 ASCANIO.

The duchess was taken aback "by this instance of the
instinctive divination of true love. There was a moment
of silence, and that moment sufficed for her to collect
her thoughts.

" Ascanio, let us not talk to-day of affairs of the heart,"
she said. " I made that request once before ; I make it
again. Love is n't the whole of life to you men. For
instance, have you never thirsted for wealth, honors,
glory?"

" Oh ! yes, yes ! for a month past I have most ardently
longed for them," replied Ascanio, always reverting to the
same idea in spite of himself.

Again there was a pause.

" Are you fond of Italy 1 " Anne resumed with effort.

" Yes, madame," said Ascanio. " There are flowering
orange groves there, beneath which it is so pleasant to
wander and converse. There the bluest of blue skies sur
rounds, caresses, and adorns everything that is beautiful."

" Oh, to fly thither with you ! — to have you all to
myself ! — to be all in all to you, as you would be all in
all to me ! Mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! " cried the duchess,
likewise yielding to the irresistible force of her love.
But she at once recovered herself, fearing to frighten
Ascanio again, and continued : " I thought that you loved
art before everything."

" Before everything I love — to love ! " said Ascanio.
" Oh ! it is my great master Cellini, not I, who throws
his whole being into his work. He is the great, the
marvellous, the sublime artist ! I am a poor apprentice,
nothing more. I came to France with him, not to acquire
wealth, nor glory, but because I loved him, that 's all,
and it was impossible for me to part from him ; for at
that time he was everything to me. I have no personal
will, no strength independent of his strength. I became

LOVE AS PASSION. 261

a goldsmith to gratify him, and because he wished it, as I
became a carver because of his enthusiasm for skilful and
delicate carving."

" Very well," said the duchess, " now listen : to live in
Italy, all-powerful, almost a king ; to patronize artists,
Cellini at their head ; to give him bronze, and silver and
gold, to carve and cast and mould ; and beyond all that,
to love and be loved. Say, Ascanio, is it not a lovely
dream ? "

"It would be Paradise, madame, if it were Colombe
whom I loved and who loved me."

" Still Colombe, always Colombe ! " cried the duchess.
" So be it ; since the subject persistently forces itself into
our words and our thoughts ; since your Colombe is here
with us, constantly before your eyes, and constantly in
your heart, let us speak of her and of myself frankly and
without hypocrisy : she does not love you, and you know
it full well."

" Oh, no ! I do not know it now, madame."
• " But how can she love you when she is to marry
another ? " cried the duchess.

" Her father forces her, perhaps."

" Her father forces her ! And do you think that if
you loved me as you loved her, — do you think that if I
were in her place there is in this wide world any force
or will or power that could keep us apart? Oh, I would
leave everything, I would fly from everything, I would
run to your arms, and would give you my love, my honor,
and my life to guard ! No, no ! I say she does not love
you. And now would you have me tell you something
else ? you do not love her ! "

" What ! I not love Colombe ! I think you said that
I do not love her, madame ? "

" No, you do not love her. You deceive yourself. At

262 ASCANIO.

your age, one mistakes the need of loving for love. If
you had seen me first, you would love me instead of her.
Oh, when I think that you might have loved me 1 But
no, no ! it is much better that you should choose me in
preference to her. I do not know this Colombe ; she ia
lovely and pure, and whatever you choose ; but these slips
of girls know nothing about loving. Your Colombe
would never have told you what 1, whom you despise,
have just said ; she would have too much vanity, too much
diffidence, too much shame perhaps. But my love is sim
ple, and expresses itself in simple words. You despise
me, you think that I forget my sex, and all because I
don't dissemble. Some day, when you know the world
better, when you have drunk so deeply of life that you
have reached the dregs, — sorrow, — then you will think
better of your present injustice, then you will admire me.
But I do not choose to be admired, Ascanio, I choose to
be loved. I say again, Ascanio, if I loved you less, I
might be false, artful, coquettish ; but I love you too
well to try to fascinate you. I long to receive your heart
as a gift, not to steal it. What will be the end of your
love for that child ? Tell me. You will suffer, my best
beloved, and that's all. But I can serve you in many
ways. In the first place, I have suffered for two, and
perhaps God will permit my surplusage of suffering to be
credited to you ; and then I lay my wealth, my power,
my experience, all at your feet. I will add my life to
yours, and will save you from all sorts of missteps and
from all forms of corruption. To arrive at fortune, or
even to attain glory, an artist must often stoop to base,
crawling expedients. You will be beyond all necessity
for that with me. I will lift you ever higher and higher;
I will be your stepping-stone. With me you will continue
to be the proud, the noble, the pure Ascanio."

LOVE AS PASSION. 263

" But Colombe ! Colombo, madame ! Is not she too an
immaculate pearl ? "

" My child, believe what I say," replied the duchess,
relapsing from feverish exaltation to melancholy. " Your
pure white, innocent Columbe will make your life monoto
nous and dreary. You are both too divine. God did n't
make angels to be joined together, but to make bad people
better."

The duchess's manner was so eloquent, and her voice
so sincere, that Ascanio was conscious of a thrill of affec
tionate compassion stealing over him, in spite of himself.

" Alas ! madame," lie said, " I see that I am indeed
honored by your affection, and I am very deeply touched ;
but it is even better to love ! "

" Oh, how true ! how true that is ! I prefer your dis
dain to the king's softest words. Ah me ! I love for the
first time : for the first time, I swear ! "

" And the king 1 pray do you not love him, madame ? "

" No, I am his mistress, but he is not my master."

" But he loves you ! "

" Mon Dieu ! " cried Anne, gazing earnestly into As-
canio's face, and seizing both his hands in hers : " Am I
so fortunate that you are jealous ? Does the king's love
offend you ? Listen : hitherto I have been in your eyes
the duchess, wealthy, noble, powerful, offering to stir up
crowned heads and overturn thrones. Do you prefer the
poor, lonely woman, out of the world, with a simple white
robe, and a wild flower in her hair ? Do you prefer that,
Ascanio ? Let us leave Paris, the court, the world ! Let
us take refuge in some far off nook in your sunny Italy,
beneath the lofty pines of Rome, or on the shores of
your lovely Bay of Naples. Here I am : I am ready.

0 Ascanio, Ascanio, does it really flatter your pride, that

1 would sacrifice a crowned lover for your sake 1 "

264 ASCANIO.

" Madame," said Ascanio, whose heart was beginning to
melt in the flame of so great a passion, " madame, my
heart is too proud and too exacting ; you cannot give me
the past."

" The past ! 0 you men, you men ! always cruel !
The past ! In God's name ought an unfortunate woman
to be compelled to answer for her past, when it has al
most always been made what it was by events and circum
stances stronger than herself? Suppose that a storm
should arise and a whirlwind carry you off to Italy ; when
you return, one year, two years, three years hence, should
you take it ill of your Colombe, whom you love so dearly
to-day, because she had obeyed her parents and married
Comte d'Orbec ? Would you make her virtue a subject
of reproach 1 would you punish her for obeying one of
God's commandments 1 And if she had not your memory
to feed upon, if she had never known you, — if, in her
deathly ennui, crushed with grief, forgotten for a moment
by God, she had sought to gain some knowledge of that
paradise called love, the door of which was closed to her,
— if she had loved another than her husband, whom she
could not love, — if in a moment of delirium she had given
her heart in exchange for another, — she would then be
ruined in your eyes, dishonored in your heart. She could
no longer hope to be blessed by your love, because she
had not an unsullied past to give in exchange for your
heart. Oh! I repeat, it is unjust, it is cruel !"

"Madame — "

" Who told you that that is not my story ? Listen to
what I say, and believe what I declare to be the truth.
I say again that I have suffered for both ; and this poor
woman, whom God forgives, you refuse to forgive. You
do not understand how much greater and nobler it is to
raise one's self from the abyss after falling into it, than

LOVE AS PASSION. 265

to pass close by without seeing it, having the bandage
of happiness over your eyes. 0 Ascanio, Ascanio! I
deemed you better than the others, because you were
younger, and fairer to look upon — "

" 0 madame ! "

" Reach me your hand, Ascanio, and at one bound I
will spring from the bottom of the abyss to your heart.
Will you ? To-morrow I will have broken with the king,
the court, the world. Oh, I am valiant in love ! But
I do not wish to make myself any greater than I am.
It would be but a trifling sacrifice for me, believe me.
All these men are not worth one glance from you. But,
if you would trust to me, dear child, you would let me
retain my authority, and continue my plans for you. I
would make you great, and you men can do without love
if you attain glory : you are ambitious, — you may not
know it yet, but you are. As for the king's love, don't
be alarmed about that: I will turn it aside upon some
other to whom he will give his heart while I retain his
mind. Choose, Ascanio. Powerful through my means
and with me, or I humble through your means and with
you. Look you: a short time since, as you know, I was
in this chair, and the most powerful courtiers were at
my feet. Sit you in my place : sit you there, and behold
me at your feet. Oh, how I love to be here, Ascanio !
oh what bliss to see you and look into your eyes ! You
turn pale, Ascanio ! Oh, if you would but tell me that
you would love me some day, though not for a long, a
very long while ! "

" Madame ! madame ! " cried Ascanio, hiding his face
in his hands, and covering eyes and ears, so conscious
was he of the potent fascination of the aspect and the
accent of the siren.

" Do not call me madame, do not call me Anne," said

266 ASCANIO.

the duchess, putting aside his hands : " call me Louise.
It is also my name, but a name by which no one has
ever called me, and it shall be yours. Louise ! Louise !
— Bo you not think it a sweet name, Ascanio 1 "

" I know one sweeter still, " replied Ascanio.

" Beware, Ascanio ! " cried the wounded lioness : " if
you make me suffer too keenly, I may perhaps come to
hate you as much as I love you."

" Mon Dieu ! " replied the young man, shaking his
head, as if to avert the spell : " Mon Dieu ! you confuse
my thoughts, and overwhelm niy heart ! Am I delirious 1
Have I a fever? Am I dreaming?- If I say harsh
things to you, forgive me, for I do it to awaken myself.
I see you, lovely, adored, a queen, here at my feet. It
cannot be that such temptations exist except to lead
souls to perdition. Ah! you are, as you say, in an
abyss; but instead of rising out of it yourself, you would
draw me in. Oh, do not expose my weakness to such
a trial ! "

" There is neither temptation, nor trial, nor dream ;
there is a resplendent reality for us both: I love you,
Ascanio, I love you! "

" You love me, but you will repent of your love .here
after and will reproach me some day for what you have
brought into my life, or what I have taken away from
yours."

"Ah! you do not know me," cried the duchess, "if
you think me weak enough to repent. Stay: will you
have a pledge ? "

Anne hastily seated herself at a table upon which
were writing materials, and, seizing a pen, dashed off a
few words.

" Take this, " she said, " and doubt me again, if you
dare ! "

LOVE AS PASSION. 267

Ascanio took the paper and read : —

" Asc;uiio, I love you: go with me where I go, or let
me go with you where you go.

"ANNE D'HEILLY."

"Oh, that cannot be, madanie ! It seems to me that
my love would be a cause of shame to you."

" Shame ! " cried the duchess : " do I know shame ?
I am too proud for that. My pride is my virtue ! "

" Ah ! I know a lovelier and more saintly virtue than
that, " said Ascanio, clinging to the thought of Colombe
with a desperate effort.

The blow struck home. The duchess rose, trembling
with indignation.

"You are an obstinate, hard-hearted child, Ascanio,"
she said in a broken voice : " I would fain have spared
you much suffering, but I see that sorrow alone can
teach you what life is. You will come back to me,
Ascanio; you will return wounded, bleeding, heart
broken, and you will know then the worth of your
Colombe and of myself. I will forgive you then, because
I love you ; but ere that time comes terrible things will
happen. Au revoir."

And Madame d'Etampes, wild with love and hatred,
left the room, forgetting that the two lines she had
written in a moment of exaltation remained in Ascanio's
hands.

2G8 ASCANIO.

XVIII.

LOVE AS A DREAM.

As soon as Ascanio was out of Madame d'Etampes's
presence, the fascinating influence which emanated from
her disappeared, and he could once more see clearly the
condition of his own heart, as well as what was going on
about him. Now, he recalled two things he had said.
Colombe might love him, since the Duchesse d'Etampes
loved him. Thenceforth his life did not belong to him :
his instinct had served him well in suggesting these two
thoughts to him, but it had led him astray when it
inspired him to give utterance to them. If the honest,
upright soul of the young man had been capable of de
scending to dissimulation, all would have been well,
but he had simply put the wounded and much to be
dreaded duchess on her guard. The struggle henceforth
was to be the more terrible, in that Colombe only was
threatened.

However, this passionate and perilous scene with the
duchess was of service to Ascanio in one respect. He
carried away from it a new-born feeling of exaltation and
confidence. His mind, excited by the spectacle it had
witnessed as well as by its own efforts, was more active
than ever, and more inclined to audacious deeds; so that
he gallantly determined to find out what basis there
might be for his hopes, and to sound the depths of
Colombo's heart, though he were to find nothing more

LOVE AS A DREAM. 269

than indifference there. If Colombe really loved Comte
d'Orbec, why contend longer against Madame d'Etampes ?
She might do what she would with a rebellious, despised,
desolate, despairing existence. He would be ambitious,
he would become gloomy and evil-minded; what matter
if he did ? But first of all he must put an end to hia
doubts, and go with a determined step to meet his fate.
If worse came to worst, Madame d'Etampes's promise
would take care of the future.

Ascanio arrived at this decision as he returned along
the quay, watching the sun sink in a sea of flame behind
the black, frowning Tour de Nesle. When he reached
the hotel, without delay or hesitation, he went first to
put together a few jewels, then resolutely knocked four
times at the door leading to the PetitxN"esle.

Dame Perrine chanced to be in the neighborhood.
With astonishment, mingled with curiosity, she made
haste to open the gate. But when she saw the ap
prentice, she felt called upon to assume a very frigid
demeanor.

" Ah ! is it you, Monsieur Ascanio 1 "What do you
wish ? "

" I wish to show these jewels to Mademoiselle Co
lombe immediately, good Dame Perrine. Is she in the
garden ? "

" Yes, in her path. But wait, young man, wait for
me!"

Ascanio, who had not forgotten the road, walked
swiftly away without giving another thought to the
governess.

" Let us see, " said she, stopping to reflect. " I think
my best course is not to join them, but to leave Colombe
free to select her purchases and her gifts. It would not
be becoming for me to be there, if, as is probable, she

270 ASCANIO.

puts something aside for me. I will arrive when she has
completed her purchases, and then I should certainly be
very ungrateful to refuse. That's what I '11 do, stay
here and not embarrass the dear, kind-hearted child. "

It will be seen that the good woman was not deficient
in delicacy.

For ten days past Colombe had not found it necessary
to ask herself if Ascanio had become her dearest thought.
The pure-souled, unsophisticated child did not know what
love was, but her heart was overflowing with love. She
told herself that she did wrong to indulge in such
dreams, but she excused herself on the ground that she
certainly should never see Ascanio again, and that she
should not have the consolation of justifying herself in
his eyes.

Upon this pretext she passed all her evenings upon
the bench where he had sat beside her, and there she
would talk to him, listen to him, and concentrate her
whole soul upon the memory. And when the darkness
came on, and Dame Perrine bade her retire, the lovely
dreamer would return to the house with reluctant steps,
and not until she was recalled to herself would she re
member her father's commands, Comte d'Orbec, and the
rapid flight of time. Her sleepless nights were hard to
bear, but not sufficiently so to efface the charm of her
visions of the evening.

On this evening, as usual, Colombe was living over
again the delicious hour she had passed with Ascanio,
when, happening to raise her eyes, she uttered a sharp
cry.

He was standing before her, gazing at her in silence.

He found her changed, but lovelier than ever. Pallor
and melancholy were most becoming to her ideally beau
tiful face. She seemed to belong still less to earth. And

LOVE AS A DREAM. 271

so Ascanio, gazing admiringly upon her enhanced charms,
was assailed once more by his former modest apprehen
sions, which Madame d'Etampes's passion had dissipated
for a moment. How could this celestial creature ever
love him 1

The two lovely children, who had loved each other so
long without a word, and who had already suffered so
much, were at last face to face. They ought, no doubt
to have traversed in an instant the space they had trav
ersed step by step, and separately, in their dreams.
They might now come to an understanding first of all,
and then allow all their long pent-up emotion to find
expression in an outburst of joy.

But they were both too timid for that, and although
their emotion betrayed each to the other, their angel
hearts did not come together until they had first made a
detour.

Colombe, speechless and blushing, had risen to her
feet by a sudden impulse. Ascanio, pale with the inten
sity of his emotion, repressed with a trembling hand the
rapid beating of his heart.

They both began to speak at once : he to say, " For
give me, mademoiselle, but you gave me leave to show
you some jewels;" she to say, "I am glad to see that
you are entirely recovered, Monsieur Ascanio."

They ceased speaking simultaneously, but nevertheless
they had perfectly understood each other: and Ascanio,
emboldened by the involuntary smile which the incident
naturally brought to the maiden's lips, rejoined, with
somewhat more assurance : —

" Are you so kind as to remember that I was wounded ? "

"Indeed, yes; and Dame Perrine and I have been
very anxious and astonished not to see you."

" I did not intend to come again. "

272 ASCANIO.

" Why not, pray ? "

At this decisive moment Ascanio was fain to lean
against a tree for support, but in a moment he sum
moned all his strength and all his courage, and said
breathlessly : —

" I may confess it now : I loved you ! "

"And now?"

The question came from Colombo's lips almost without
her knowledge : it would have put to flight all the doubts
of an older hand than Ascanio, but it simply revived his
hopes a little.

" Now, alas ! " he continued, " I have measured the
distance that lies between us, and I know that you are
happily betrothed to a noble count."

" Happily ! " interposed Colombe, with a bitter smile.

"What! you do not love the count! Great God!
Pray tell me, is he not worthy of you ? "

" He is rich and powerful, far above me : but you have
seen him 1 "

" No, and I was afraid to inquire. Besides, I cannot
say why, but I felt certain that he was young and at
tractive, and that he was agreeable to you."

" He is older than my father, and he frightens me, "
said Colombe, hiding her face in her hands with a gesture
of abhorrence which she could not repress.

Ascanio, beside himself with joy, fell on his knees,
with clasped hands, pale as death, his eyes half closed,
but a sublime light shone out from beneath his eyelids,
and a smile fit to rejoice God's heart played about his
colorless lips.

" What is the matter, Ascanio ? " said Colombe in
alarm.

" What is the matter ! " cried the young man, finding
in the excess of his joy the audacity which sorrow first

LOVE AS A DREAM. 273

gave him ; " What is the matter ! why, I love you,
Colombo ! "

" Ascanio ! Ascanio ! " murmured Colombe, in a tone
that was half reproof, half pleasure, and it must be said,
as soft as a confession of love.

But they understood each other; their hearts were
united, and before they were conscious of it, their lips
had followed suit.

" My friend, " said Colombe, softly pushing Ascanio
away.

They gazed into one another's faces in ecstasy : the
two angels recognized each other at last. Life does not
contain two such moments.

" And so, " said Ascanio, " you do not love Comte
d'Orbec : you are free to love me. "

" My friend," said Colombe, in her sweet, grave voice,
" no one save my father ever kissed me before, and he,
alas ! very rarely. I am an ignorant child, and I know
nothing of life ; but I know from the thrill which your
kiss caused me that it is my duty henceforth to belong
only to you or to Heaven. Yes, if it were otherwise, I
am sure that it would be a crime ! Your lips have con
secrated me your fiancee and yoxir wife, and though my
father himself should say no, I would listen only to the
voice of God, which says yes in my heart. Here is my
hand, which is yours."

" Angels of paradise, hear her and envy me ! " cried
Ascanio.

Such ecstasy is not to be pictured or described. Let
those who can remember, remember. It is impossible to
put upon paper the words, the looks, the hand-pressures
of these pure-hearted lovely children. Their spotless
souls flowed together, as do the waters from two springs,
without changing their nature or their color. Ascanio
VOL. i. — 18

274 ASCANIO.

did not sully with the shadow of an impure thought the
chaste brow of his beloved; Colombe laid her head in
perfect trust upon her lover's shoulder. Had the Virgin
Mary looked down upon them from on high she would
not have turned her head away.

When one begins to love, one is in haste to bring to
the support of his love all that he can of his past, present,
and future. As soon as they could speak calmly, Ascanio
and Colombe described to each other all their sorrows,
all their hopes, of the days just gone by. It was charm
ing to both to find that each had the other's story to tell.
They had suffered much, and they smiled upon each
other as they remembered their suffering.

But when they came to speak of the future, then they
became serious and sad. What had God in store for
them for the morrow ? According to all divine laws they
were made for each other; but human prejudices would
declare their union ill assorted, monstrous. What were
they to do ? How persuade Comte d'Orbec to renounce
his wife ? how persuade the Provost of Paris to give his
daughter to an artisan ?

"Alas! my friend," said Colombe, "I promised you
that I would belong to you or to Heaven, — I see that it
must be to Heaven.

" No, " said Ascanio, " to me. Two children like our
selves cannot move the world alone ; but I will speak to
my dear master, Benvenuto Cellini. He is powerful,
Colombe, and sees all tilings from a higher level! He
acts on earth as God ordains in heaven, and whatever
his will has undertaken he accomplishes. He will give
you to me. I do not know how he will do it, but 1
am sure. He loves obstacles. He will speak to King
Francois; he will persuade your father. The only thing
he could not bring to pass you did without his interven-

LOVE AS A DREAM. 275

tion, — you loved me. The rest ought to be very sim
ple. You see that I believe in miracles now, my best
beloved."

" Dear Ascanio, you hope and I hope. Would you
like me also to try an experiment? There is a person
whose influence over my father's mind is unbounded.
Shall I not write to Madame d'Etampes ? "

" Madame d'Etampes ! " cried Ascanio. " Mon Dieu !
I had forgotten her."

Thereupon he told her, simply and without affectation,
how he had seen the duchess, how she had declared her
love for him, and how, that very day, within an hour,
she had pronounced herself the enemy of his beloved.
But of what consequence was it ? Benvenuto's task would
be a little mere difficult, that was all. One adversary
more would not terrify him.

" My dear, " said Colombe, " you have faith in your
master, and I have faith in you ; speak to Cellini as soon
as possible, and let him decide our fate."

" To-morrow I will tell him everything. He loves me
so well that he will understand me instantly. But what
is it, my Colombe 1 How sad you are ! "

Each sentence of Ascanio's narrative had made Co
lombe doubly conscious of her love for him by forcing
the sharp sting of jealousy into her heart, and more than
once she convulsively pressed Ascanio's hand, which she
held in her own.

" Ascanio, Madame d'Etampes is very beautiful. She
is beloved by a great king. Mon Dieu ! did she make
no impression upon your heart ? "

" I love you ! " said Ascanio.

" Wait here for me."

She returned a moment later with a beautiful fresh
white lilv.

276 ASCANIO.

" When you are working at that woman's lily of gold
and jewels," said she, "glance sometimes at the simple
lilies from your Colombo's garden."

With that she put her lips to the flower and handed it
to the apprentice, as coquettishly as Madame d'Etarnpes
herself could have done.

At that moment Dame Perrine appeared at the end of
the path.

" Adieu and au revoir ! " said Colombo, putting her
hand to her lover's lips with a furtive, graceful gesture.

The governess approached them.

" Well, my child, " she said to Colombo, " have you
given the delinquent a good scolding, and selected your
jewels ? "

" Take this, Dame Perrine, " said Ascanio, putting the
box of trinkets in the good woman's hands still unopened ;
" Mademoiselle Colombe and I have decided that you
shall yourself choose whatever suits you best, and I will
come again to-morrow for the others."

With that he ran off with his joy, darting a fare
well glance at Colombe, which told her all that he had
to tell.

Colombe sat with her hands folded upon her breast as
if to confine the happiness it contained, while Dame
Perrine was making her choice among the marvels
brought by Ascanio.

Alas ! the poor child was very soon and very cruelly
awakened from her sweet dreams.

A woman appeared, escorted by one of the provost's
men.

" Monseigneur le Comte d'Orbec, who is to return
day after to-morrow, " said this woman, " places me at
madame's service from to-day. I am familiar with the
newest and prettiest styles, and I am commanded by

LOVE AS A DREAM. 277

Monsieur le Comte and Messire le Prevot to make for
madame a magnificent brocade gown, as Madame la
Duchesse d'Etampes is to present madame to the queen
on the day of her Majesty's departure for Saint-Germain,
four days hence."

After the scene we have described, the reader may im
agine the despairing effect of this twofold news upon
Colombe.

278 ASCANIO.

XIX.

LOVE AS AN IDEA.

THE next morning at daybreak Ascanio, resolved to place
his destiny in his master's hands at once, repaired to the
foundry where Cellini worked every morning. But as
he was about to knock at the door of what the master
called his cell, he heard Scozzone's voice. He supposed
that she was posing, and he discreetly withdrew, to re
turn a little later. Meanwhile he walked about the gar
dens of the Grand-Nesle, reflecting upon what he should
say to Cellini, and what Cellini would probably say to
him.

But Scozzone was not posing, — far from it. She had
never before set foot in the cell, to which no one, to her
great disappointment, was ever admitted. So it was that
the master's wrath was terrible to behold, when, happen
ing to turn his head, he saw Catherine behind him, with
her great eyes open wider than ever. The imprudent
damsel's desire to see found little to gratify it, after all.
A few drawings upon the walls, a green curtain before
the window, a statue of Hebe begun, and a collection of
sculptor's utensils, comprised the whole contents of the
room.

" What do you want, little serpent ? Why have you
come here ? In God's name will you follow me to hell ? "
cried Benvenuto at sight of Catherine.

LOVE AS AN IDEA. 279

Alas ! master, " said Scozzone, in her softest voice, " I
assure you I am not a serpent. I confess that rather
than part from you I would joyfully follow you to hell if
necessary, and I come here because it is the only place
where I can speak to you in secret."

" Very well ! make haste ! What have you to say
to me 1 "

" O mon Dieu ! Benvenuto, " exclaimed Scozzone,
spying the outlined statue, " what an admirable figure !
It is your Hebe. I had no idea it was so far advanced ;
how lovely it is! "

" Is it not ? " said Benvenuto.

" Ah, yes ! very lovely, and I understand that you
would not want me to pose for such a subject. But who
is your model ? " inquired Scozzone, anxiously. " I have
not seen any woman go in or out."

" Hush ! Come, my dear girl, you surely did not come
here to talk of sculpture."

" No, master it's about our Pagolo. I did as you bade
me, Benvenuto. He took advantage of your absence
last evening to annoy me with his eternal love, and, as
you commanded, I listened to him to the end."

" Aha ! the traitor ! What did he say to you ? "

" Oh ! it 's enough to make one die with laughing, and
I would have given anything in the world could you
have been there. Please understand that, in order not
to arouse suspicion, the hypocrite finished the clasp you
had given him to make, while he was speaking to me,
and the file that he held in his hand added not a little to
the pathos ot his speech.

" 'Dear Catherine,' said 'he, 'I am dying for love of
you ; when will you take pity on my martyrdom 1 One
word, I only ask for one word. Just see to what I
expose myself for your sake ! if I had not finished this

280 ASCANIO.

clasp, the master might suspect something, and if he
suspected anything he would kill me without mercy ; but
I defy everything for your lovely eyes. Jesu ! this
accursed work does n't advance at all. After all, Cath
erine, what good does it do you to love Benvenuto ? He
does n't thank you for it ; he is always indifferent to you.
And I would love you with a love which would be so
ardent and so circumspect at the same time ! No one
would discover it, you would never be compromised, and
you could rely on my discretion, whatever might happen.
Look you,' he added, made bold by my silence, ' I have
already found a safe retreat, hidden from every eye,
where I could take you without fear.' — Ha! ha! you
would never guess the place the sly rascal had selected,
Benvenuto. I give you a hundred, a thousand guesses;
none but men with hang-dog looks, and eyes on the
ground discover such out of the way corners. He pro
posed to quarter me, — where do you suppose ? — in the
head of your great statue of Mars. 'We can go up,' he
said, 'with a ladder.' He assured me that there is a
very pretty apartment there, out of every one's sight, and
with a magnificent view of the surrounding country. "

" Faith, it's not a bad idea, " said Benvenuto, with a
laugh; " and what reply did you make, Scozzone? "

" I replied with a great burst of laughter, which I
could not keep back, and which sorely disappointed
Mons. Pagolo. He undertook then to be very pathetic,
to reproach me with having no heart, and with wishing
to cause his death, and so forth, and so forth. All the
time working away with hammer and file, he talked to
me in that strain for a full half-hour, for he 's a loquacious
rascal when he gives his mind to it."

" What reply did you give him finally, Scozzone 1 "

" What reply 1 Just as you knocked at the door, and

LOVE AS AN IDEA. 281

he placed his clasp, finished at last, upon the table, I
took his hand, and said to him very soberly, « Pagolo, you
have talked like a jewel ! ' That was why you found him
looking so like an idiot when you came in."

" You were wrong, Scozzone ; you should not have dis
couraged him so."

" You told me to listen to him and I listened. Do
you think it 's so very easy for me to listen to handsome
boys? Suppose something should happen some fine
day?"

" You should not only listen to him, my child, but you
must give him an answer : it is indispensable to my plan.
Speak to him at first without anger, then indulgently,
and then encouragingly. When you have reached that
point, I will tell you what else you must do."

" But that may have results you do not intend, do you
know ? At least you should be there."

" Never fear, Scozzone, I will appear at the right
moment. You have only to rely upon me, and follow
my instructions to the letter. Go now, little one, and
leave me to my work."

Catherine tripped lightly away, laughing in pleased
anticipation of the fine trick Cellini proposed to play
upon Pagolo, of the nature of which, however, she could
not form the least conception.

Benvenuto, when she had left him, did not resume his
work, as he had said; he rushed to the window which
looked obliquely upon the garden of the Petit-Nesle, and
stood there in rapt contemplation. A knock at the door
rudely aroused him from his reverie.

" Hail and tempest ! " he cried in a rage, " who is
there now ? can I not be left in peace ? Ten thousand
devils ! "

" Forgive me, master, " said Ascanio's voice ; " if I
disturb you, I will go away."

282 ASCANIO.

" What ! is it you, my child 1 No, no, surely not ;
you never disturb me. What is it, pray1? what do you
want with me 1 "

Benvenuto lost no time in opening the door for his
beloved pupil.

" I interfere with your solitude and your work," said
Ascanio.

"No, Ascanio, you are always welcome."

" Master, I have a secret to confide to you, a service to
ask of you."

" Speak. Will you have my purse 1 do you need my
arm or my thoughts ? "

" I may have need of them all, dear master. "

" So much the better ! I am yours body and soul,
Ascanio. I have a confession to make to you, too : yes,
a confession, for although I have committed no sin, I
think, still I shall have some remorse until I am absolved
by you. But do you speak first."

"Very well, master. — But, great Heaven! what is
that cast ? " cried Ascanio, interrupting himself.

His eye had just fallen upon the statue of Hebe, and
in the statue he recognized Colombo.

" It is Hebe, " replied Benvenuto, with glistening
eyes; "it is the goddess of youth. Do you think it
beautiful, Ascanio ? "

"Oh, wonderful! But those features: I know them,
I cannot be mistaken ! "

" Rash boy ! Since you raise the veil half-way, I must
needs snatch it away altogether, and so, after all, your
confidence will come after mine. Sit down, Ascanio;
you shall have my heart spread out before you like an
open book. You need me, you say: I, too, need that
you should hear me. I shall be relieved of a great
weight when you know all."

LOVE AS AN IDEA. 283

Ascanio sat down, paler than the culprit about to listen
to the reading of the death sentence.

" You are a Florentine, Ascanio, and I do riot need to
ask you if you know the story of Dante Alighieri. One
day he saw a child named Beatrice passing along the
street, and he loved her. The child died and he loved
her still, for it was her soul that he loved and souls do
not die ; but he crowned her with a crown of stars, and
placed her in paradise. That done, he set about analyz
ing human passions, sounding the depths of poetry and
philosophy ; and when, purified by suffering and contem
plation, he reached the gates of heaven, where Virgil,
that is, Wisdom, was to leave him, he was not obliged to
stop for lack of a guide, because he found Beatrice, that
is, Love, awaiting him on the threshold.

" Ascanio, I have my Beatrice, dead like the other,
and adored as she was. This has been hitherto a secret
between God and her and myself. I am weak to resist
temptation ; but my adoration for her has remained intact
amid all the impure passions to which I have yielded. I
had placed my light too high for corruption to reach it.
The man plunged heedlessly into dissipation, the artist
remained true to his mysterious betrothal ; and if I have
done anything creditable, Ascanio, — if inert matter, silver
or clay, has been made to assume form and life under my
fingers, if I have sometimes succeeded in imparting beauty
to marble and life to bronze, — it has been because my
resplendent vision has given me counsel, support, and
instruction for twenty years past.

" But I know not how it is, Ascanio : perhaps there is
a distinction between the poet and the goldsmith, be
tween the moulder of ideas, and the moulder of gold.
Dante dreams : I need to see. The name of Maria is all-
sufficient to him ; I must have before me the face of the

284 ASCANIO.

Madonna. We divine his creations; we touch mine.
That perhaps is why ray Beatrice was not enough, or
rather was too much for me, a sculptor. Her mind was
ever present with me, but I was compelled to seek the
human form. The angelic woman who shed a bright
light upon my life had been beautiful, most certainly,
beautiful above all in the qualities of her heart, but she
did not realize the type of undying beauty upon which my
imagination dwelt. I found myself constrained therefore
to seek elsewhere, to invent.

"Now, tell me this, Ascanio; do you think that, if
my sculptor's ideal had presented itself to me living on
this earth, and if I had bestowed a share of my admira
tion upon it, I should have been ungrateful and faithless
to my poetic ideal ? Do you think that my celestial
apparition would in that case have ceased to visit me,
that the angel would be jealous of the woman ? Do you
think it ? I ask you the question, Ascanio, and you will
know some day why I ask it of you rather than of
another, — why I tremble as I await your reply, as if you
were my Beatrice herself."

"Master," said Ascanio gravely and sadly, "I am too
young to have an opinion upon such lofty subjects: I
think, however, in my heart, that you are one of the
chosen men whom God leads, and that what you find
upon your path has been placed there by God, not by
chance. "

" That is really your belief, is it not, Ascanio ? You
are of opinion that the terrestrial angel, the realization of
my longing, would be sent by God, and that the other
celestial angel would not be angry at my desertion ? In
that case, I may venture to tell you that I have found
my ideal, that it is living, that I can see it, and almost
touch it. Ascanio, the model of all beauty, of all purity,

LOVE AS AN IDEA. 285

the type of infinite perfection, to which we artists aspire,
is near at hand, it breathes, and I can admire it every
day. Ah! all that I have done hitherto is as nothing
compared with what I will do. This Hebe, which you
think beautiful, and which is, in very truth, my chef-
d'oeuvre, does not satisfy me as yet: my living dream
stands beside its image, and seems to me a hundred times
more glorious; but I will attain it! I will attain it!
Ascanio, a thousand white statues, all of which resemble
it, are already forming and rising in my brain. I see
them, I feel their presence, and some day they will come
forth.

" And now, Ascanio, would you like me to show you
my lovely inspiration ? it should be close by us. Every
morning, when the sun rises, it shines upon me from
below. Look."

Benvenuto drew the curtain aside from the window,
and pointed to the garden of the Petit-Nesle.

In her leafy avenue Colombe was walking slowly
along, her head resting upon her hand.

How fair she is, is she not? " said Benvenuto ecstati
cally. " Phidias and old Michel- Angelo created nothing
purer, and the ancients, if they equal, do not surpass
that graceful young head. How beautiful she is! "

" Ah ! yes, beautiful indeed ! " murmured Ascanio, who
had resumed his seat, without strength to move or to
think.

There was a moment's pause, while Benvenuto feasted
upon his joy, and Ascanio brooded over his pain.

"But, master," the apprentice timidly ventured to
say, " where will this artistrs passion lead you ? What
do you mean to do ? "

" Ascanio, " replied Cellini, " she who is dead is not
and cannot be mine. God simply showed her to me,

286 ASCANIO.

and did not implant any human love for her in my heart.
Strangely enough, he did not even lead me to feel what
she was to me until he had taken her from the world.
She is naught but a memory in my life, a vague, indis
tinct image. But if you have understood me, Colombo
more nearly touches my existence, my heart: I dare to
love her : I dare to say to myself, ' She shall be mine ! '

" She is the daughter of the Provost of Paris, " said
Ascanio, trembling.

" And even if she were a king's daughter, Ascanio, you
know what my will is capable of. I have attained what
ever object I have sought to attain, and I never longed
for aught more ardently. I know not as yet by what
means I shall gain my end, but she must be my wife."

" Your wife ! Colombe your wife ! "

" I will apply to my mighty sovereign, " continued
Benvenuto. " I will people the Louvre and Chambord
with statues if he wishes. I will cover his tables with
ewers and candelabra, and when I ask no other price
than Colombe he will not be Franqois I. if he refuses.

0 Ascanio, I am hopeful, I am hopeful! I will seek
him in the midst of his whole court. See, three days
hence, when he starts for Saint-Germain, you will come
with me. We will carry the silver salt-box, which is
'completed, and the designs for a gateway at Fontaine-
bleau. Every one will admire them, for they are fine,
and he will admire them, and will marvel more than the
others. I will give him a similar surprise every week.

1 have never been conscious of a more fruitful creative
power. My brain is boiling night and day : this love of
mine, Ascanio, has increased my power and renewed my
youth. When Francois sees all his wishes gratified as
soon as they are formed, — ah ! then I will no longer re
quest, but demand. He will make me great, and I will

LOVE AS AN IDEA. 287

make myself rich, and the Provost of Paris, for all his
provostship, will be honored hy the alliance. Upon my
soul, Ascanio, I am going mad! Such thoughts make
me lose control of myself. She mine ! Dreams of
heaven ! Do you realize what it means, Ascanio ? Co-
lombe mine ! Embrace me, my child ; since I have con
fessed it all to you, I dare to listen to my hopes. My
heart is calmer now ; you have in a measure legalized my
happiness. You will understand some day what I mean
by that. Meanwhile, it seems to me that I love you more
dearly since you have received my confidence : it was
good of you to listen. Embrace me, dear Ascanio ! "

" But you do not seem to think, master, that perhaps
she does n't love you. "

" Oh, hush, Ascanio ! I have thought of it, and then
I have envied your youth and beauty. But what you
say of the far-seeing designs of God reassures me. She
is waiting for me to come to her. Whom should she
love 1 some courtier fop, altogether unworthy of her !
Furthermore, whoever he may be for whom she is des
tined, I am as nobly born as he, and I have more
genius. "

"Comte d'Orbec, they say, is \\evfiance"
" Comte d'Orbec 1 so much the better ! I know him.
He is the king's treasurer, and I go to him for the gold
and silver to be used in my work, and for the sums which
his Majesty's bounty allots to me. Comte d'Orbec is a
crabbed, worn-out old curmudgeon ! He does n't count,
and there will be little glory in supplanting such an ani
mal. Go to, Ascanio; it is I whom she will love, not
for my sake, but for her own, because I shall be the
demonstration of her loveliness, so to speak, because she
will be appreciated, adored, immortalized. Moreover,
I have said, « I wish it ! ' and, I say again, I never haVe

288

ASCANIO.

used that phrase that I have not succeeded. There is no
human power which can hold out against the energy of
my passion. I shall, as always, go straight to my goal,
with the inflexibility of destiny. She shall be mine, I
tell you, though I have to turn the whole kingdom topsy
turvy. And if perchance any rival should block my
way — Demonio ! let him beware ! You know me,
Ascanio: I will kill him with this hand now grasping
thine. But forgive me, Ascanio, in God's name ! Ego
tist that I am, I forget that you have a secret to confide
to me, and a service to ask at my hands. I shall never
pay my debt to you, dear child, but say on, say on. For
you, as well as myself, I can do what it is my will to do."

"You are wrong, master: there are things which God
alone can do, and I know that I must rely upon Him and
none other. I will leave my secret, therefore, between
my feebleness and His might."

Ascanio left the room.

He had hardly closed the door when Cellini drew the
green curtain, and, placing his table by the window, be
gan to model his Hebe, his heart filled with joy in the
present, and a sense of security for the future.

Presented to the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
LIBRARY

by the

ONTARIO LEGISLATIVE
LIBRARY

1980